





- o V 

V "^-..9^ 

o->/^<^v-^'- 'jy'" '^<^ '% 

^O. 'o^..* A ^™T^ " - 

Q-«( 






* ^ "' . . s " <G* 'o . . « 


'p- aS . « » *■ ■A, q'^ ,>•'», "^o , 0 * ° . 


O 

o 


o V : 






4>.‘' ^ * - 

A ,* 

'^o r 


<5^. 


o jP 

c^ 'P * * 

A® ’ A’ 

' ^ o ^ A^ » 

" .y % ‘?f?P^* ■ 

yitifi^'- '^•ju .-k^“ .v-^Mfti'- ' 



% 





. a"^ ^ 

vP G * . 


'' A^ 


<p 


4 O. 

1^ y<» « 



.‘_i:L"% ■ c°\‘: 


‘ O V 



^ 0 

■'?' 








0 \9 'TV 

' ^ ' V ‘ . 

CJ'^o^o’ .0 V *'»<•'* . 

\ *-« ^ y*« ^ . • ♦ 

^ ' ^^\-\.y -'^Mt 'W' '■'^'C^'^' I 

'-.^K-" ‘^W.' ^ \ 

jK >. yV" 


V * “ * “ -? 



. ®o 

'*o 

0* V. ^<5-^ V. A 


X® *tV 

0 rO V " . 

\0 ^ ^ . 
^ ... a \ 




«? ■>. 

r 0 " ® ^ Q^ • ^ ^ 

* >. ^ ^ jSFd //y^ ‘> 



V ^ aO' 

*" vO • 

• * 

» O 

^ o 

^ • IS y ■ ■* 

nD ^o ♦ i ^'\ _ 

, "^o y c'”‘ “ ^ 'v. ’ * o'^'" . ^ " •» '^o 



U'^c^<E:^so^^ 


R\Gi\UKV.O 


vjauSHLO 


CAGO DAILY NE.WS 


E. A. WEEKS & COMPANY 


CHICAGO 

The Melbourne Series. No. 48. June, 1896. Issued Monthly. Subscription price $3.00 per year 
Entered at Chicago Post Office as second-class matter. 


Jk 



Two NEW BOOKS... 


BY 

PROF. GEO. W. CONKLIN 

OF HAMILTON UNIVERSITY 

Author of “ Conklin’s Handy,Manual of Useful Information,” etc., etc. 


U/eeKs’ l/est-poe^et 
U/ritio^ DesK Bool( 

Vett-Pocktt Size, 36S Pagta; Limp Cloth, 2Sc, Flexibl* 
Leathtr Binding. 60o. 

The Writing Desk Book 


Answers these among many other 
questions : 

//aye / i/see/ ihe Rig/it Word ? 

Consult 15,000 Synonyms and Anto- 
nyms, page 19 1. 

//ave / Spelled it Correctly ? 

Consult 50,000 Words Difficult to Spell, 
page 277. 

Shall / Use a Capital Letter ? 

Consult How to Use Capital betters, 
page II. 

/s the Sentence Grammatical ? 

Consult Rules of Grammar, pages 
20 to 24. 

/s it Properly Constructed ? 

Consult Rules of Construction, page 32. 

Have / Punctuated it Correctly ? 

Consult How to Punctuate Correctly, 
Page ii; and Notes on Punctuation, 
page 17. 

Is it Correct in Style ? 


Qopl^liij’s l/est-poel(et 
^r^umept Settler 

Vest-Pockit SIzi, 250 Paget; Limp Cloth, 2So. Flexible 
Leather Binding, 6 O 0 , 

The Argument Settler 


Is a book that contains a million 
proved facts, and is designed for the 
service of those who may wish to make 
statements in reference to a.ny of the 
thousand and one questions that come 
up in everyday life, and immediately 
prove them if necessary, by reference 
to this handy volume that can con- 
stantly be carried in the vest pocket. 
It settles arguments instantly. 


Consult Rules of Style, page 33; and 
Rules of Composition, page 72. 

Either volume mailed postpaid, to any address, on receipt of price. 


INFORMATION FOR AGENTS 


S5 cents secures Agents Terras and a Sample 
Copy of either book in limp cloth bind- 
ing. 

50 cents secures Agents Terms and a Sample 
Copy of both books in limp cloth bind- 
ing, or a sample copy of either book in 
leather binding. 

75 cents secures Agents Terras, a copy of 
either of the books in limp cloth, and 
either one in leather binding. 


$1.00 secures Agents Terms, a sample of both 
books in limp cloth binding, and a sam- 
ple of either book in leather binding, or 
a sample of both iu leather binding only. 

$1.25 secures Agents Terms and a sample of 
both books in leather binding and one 
of the books in limp cloth binding. 

$1.50 secures Agents Terms and a sample 
copy of both books in both styles of 
binding. 

All you need isacapitalof from 25c to $1.50 
to enable you to make from $3.00 to 
$10.00 per day. . . . 


START IN BUSINESS 
FOR YOURSELF 


NO PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE NECESSARY. THE BOOKS SELL AT SIGHT. 


E. A. Weeks & Company, Publishers, cmSo jll 





BARKEEP STORIES 


BY 

FRANK HUTCHESON. 


Originally Published iu The Chicago Daily News. 


it- 



ILLUSTRATED BY THE AUTHOR. 


CHICAGO: 

E. A. WEEKS & COMPANY, 
521-531 WABASH AVE. 











’» * 



■ S*- 





COPYRIGHT, 1896, 

BY 

E. A. WEEKS & COMPANY. • 



THE BARKEEP STORIES 


THE BARKEEP MEETS HIS OLD PAL, 
“THE PUP.” 



STOOD in front of a State street 
saloon. He had on a gray summer 
suit, a somewhat shabby spring over- 
coat and a pair of dilapidated tan shoes. 
He was smoking a cigarette and his 
hands were stuffed into his overcoat 
pockets. He was a race-horse tout by 
profession and those who knew him - 
called him “the pup.” What his 
right name was no one ever seemed to 
care to inquire. 

How he came by his name nobody appeared to know. 
It may have been because of his natural “cussedness” 
and propensity for getting into trouble. 

The pup was known to entertain some very visionary 
ideas concerning his own ability and the great future that 
was bound to come to him. No one could tell him but 
that he would some day be a Riley Grannan or a Mike 
Dwyer. 

The past summer, however, had evidently not been 
productive of anything to justify these hopes. 

It was plain that he had not landed back to town over- 
loaded with the “long and dirty.” Consequently he was 


6 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


not particularly desirous of running across many of his 
acquaintances while wearing his present “front.’’ 

A man with close-cropped hair, clean-shaven face and 
a checked suit showing under his box overcoat turned 
the corner half a block away. 

The pup saw him coming, but it was too late. The 
man with the checked clothes had “made” him and a 
look of surprise on his face had gradually changed to a 
sarcastic grin as he approached. 

The pup pretended not to see him. He drew his hands 
out of his pockets, became suddenly interested in some- 
thing across the 
street, and, in the lan- 
guage of the street, 
gave a very pretty 
exhibition of the art 
of “stalling.” 

“Hello, dere, pup!” 
“Why, hello, there, 
old man! How is ev- 
ery t’ing?” 

“Well, you’re a 
peach!” 

“Wot’s de row?” 
“Why didn’t you 
send me dat getaway 
money I staked you 
to last spring? Been 
too busy figurin’ 
dope an’ countin’ money t’ t’ink o’ trifles, I s’pose?’’ 

“Well, on de square, I was goin’ ” 

“You was goin’ t’ send it w’en you beat a ten to one 
shot wid a fifty-dollar note, I s’pose — but you took a 
chance an’ bet de hull works on a t’ree-to-five shot, an — 



“YOUSE GUYS MAKE ME TIRED.” 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


7 


de lamp went out. Youse guys make me sick! Blow 
back t’ town after bein’ round de race-tracks all summer 
wid a paper suit an’ a screwy overcoat an’ a pair o’ yellow 
shoes an’ stand round an’ look wise an’ tell ’bout how you 
come near ownin’ dat black filly dat just win de stake 
down east, 'an’ how if dis one could have win you’d be 
makin’ book now, an’ a few more smoke-up stories. An’ 
den you ” 

But the pup had turned and fled. The smooth- 
shaven man watched him disappear within the saloon 
and then walked away. His face wore a grin, and if 
you were close enough you might have heard him say: 

“An’ dem’s de guys dat calls us barkeepers cheap!” 


8 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE BARKEEP DISCUSSES THINGS WITH 
THE SEEDY POLITICIAN. 

BARKEEP stood with one elbow lean- 
ing on the bar and about half an inch 
of a cigar in the corner of his mouth. 
He was thinking deeply, and evidently 
his thoughts were anything but pleas- 
ant. 

The only other man in the place 
was a seedy-looking individual who 
sat near the wall with a well-worn silk 
hat over his eyes and his feet cocked 
up on a table. He was a politician, 
and he was evidently in no very good luck. Midnight 
had long passed and everything both outside and in was 
painfully quiet. 

The roisterers in the streets had become few and far be- 
tween and the occasional rattle of the State street owl 
cars was about the only sound to disturb their medita- 
tions. 

After an unusually long stretch of silence the bar- 
keep suddenly heaved a deep sigh, threw his cigar butt 
at a rat that was peeping out from behind the ice-box, 
yawned, stretched himself and glanced over at the seedy 
politician. That worthy had dozed ^ff, but a well-directed 
piece of ice thrown by the barkeep brought him back to 
this world without ceremony 

“Come on,” said the barkeep, “let’s have a drink! 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


9 


T’ings is lookin’ awful rummy fer us, but we can’t choke 
t’ death, even if dere ain’t nobody droppin’ in wid de 
price.” 

The politician arose, slouched over to the bar and 
blinked sleepily. Then he poured out a drink that caused 
the barkeep to grab the bottle and remark: 

“What’s de matter wit’ you? Did ye t’ink I asked you 

t’ take a bat’?” The 
other was evidently 
used to this sort of 
treatment, for he paid 
no attention what- 
ever to the remark. 

He gulped down 
his three fingers of 
"booze” without 
winking, and after a 
hearty smack of his 
lips remarked: “De 
graft’s tough, ain’t 
it?” 

“Well, I should say 
so!” responded the 
barkeep; “between de 
Civic Federation an’ 
de p’litical reformers 
dey got us all on de 
cattle-train I” 

The politician, after critically surveying himself and his 
silk hat in the mirror for a minute, turned around and 
was about to take his seat by the table when the barkeep 
remarked : 

“Say, was I tellin’ you about what came off in here 
yesterday mornin’?” 



10 


THE BARKEEP- STORIES. 


The politician was all attention at once, for he had vis- 
ions of another drink. 

“Well,” went on the barkeep, “dey was a guy comes 
in here ’bout t’ree o’clock an’ maces me fer a drink. He 
has long hair an’ a screwy silk top-piece an’ looks like 
he might be one o’ dem bum actors dat you see over on 
Clark street. It’s pretty cold outside an’ de guy is shiv- 
erin’ an’ looks like he needs a booze pretty bad, so I 
stakes him t’ one out o’ de put-back bottle. He cops 
de drink and t’anks me fer it an’ den starts off like he was 
goin’ t’ spiel his troubles to- me, but I flags him an’ tells 
him I’m overloaded wid dem meself. Well, he backs 
close to de door and den takes off his lid an’ says, 
in regular teater fashion: ‘Me fren’, says he, ‘me fren’, 
all I wanted t’ remark was dat you’d have yer reward 
fer dat drink in hell!’ What do you t’ink of dat? Well, 
I breaks a pane o’ glass in de door and like to ruined 
dem curtains wid de seltzer bottle tryin’ t’ git him, but 
he beats me to it, and when I gets outside he was near 
t’ree blocks off. De next hobo dat maces me fer a booze 
is liable to have t’ duck away from a cannon.” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


11 


THE BARKEEP AND MUGGINS VISIT THE 
DUTCHMAN’S.. 

Y’ HEAR ’bout me an’ Muggins over 
to de Dutchman’s de odder night?” 
said the barkeep the other morning 
to. the seedy politician and the hobo, 
“Say, it was de funniest t’ing ever 
y’ see an’ between me an’ you I’m as 
lucky a guy as dey is in de world t’ be 
able t’ be here an’ tell yez about it. 
An’ I’ll tip annuder t’ing off t’ youse 
guys — I’ll not take no steers from dat 
Muggins no more!” 

Muggins was a bosom pal of the barkeep’s. He weighs 
about 200 pounds and his friends say that he “kin lick 
most anybody.” 

After the drink the barkeep cleared his throat and 
proceeded: 

“Well, it was dat night I takes de lay-off on ’count of 
me old pal on de west side croakin’ himself. I meets 
Muggins early in de evenin’ an’ invites him out wid me. 
Per a wonder he was dere wid some change himself, an’ 
of course I has to take a steer from him once in a while. 
Well, it’s ’bout 2 o’clock in de mornin,’ an’ we’re bot’ dere 
wid a purty good load, when Muggins wants t’ steer me 
to de big beer joint over de street. I balks fer awhile 
but Muggins ain’t blowed all his coin yet an’ so I goes 
wid him. Well, in we goes an’ Muggins says to de guy 



12 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


back o’ de bar: ‘Gimme a little rye.’ De Dutchman puts 
de bottle up an’ Muggins pours out ’nough t’ wash his 
mitts in. De Dutchman rubbers at him like he was 
figgerin’ how much he was losin’ to de drink, but he never 
bats his eye. Just den up comes a Dutch flunkey wid a 
tray in his mitt an’ an order fer san’wiches. 

“Did y’ ever hear a 
Dutchman order a 
san’wich? No? Well, 
dey skin anyt’ing y’ 
ever read about! Dis 
guy wants a cheese 
san’wich an’ rye 
bread, an’ dis was hia 
spiel: ‘Cheese on de 
rye!’ Muggins is 
just about t’ 
cop de bat’ he’d 
poured out, an’ he 
near drops de glass 
when he hears it. ‘Y’ 

Dutch stiff! Wot’s it 
t’ you wot size of a 
drink I take?’ says he, 
an’ den he swings fer 
de flunkey an’ puts 
him out. 

“In two minutes I 
tought dey was a t’ousand Dutch round dere. Dey has 
ev’yt’ing in der mitts from a ice-pick to a cork screw. 
Muggins is mixin’ up wid dem like he was to a p’litical 
picnic an’ I am tryin’ t’ stop .him an’ keep from gettin’ 
slugged at dg same time. Finally I splits Muggins out 
fer a minute an’ den I grabs de boss o’ de joint roun’ de 





THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


13 


neck an’ hollers in his ear dat it was all a mistake. He 
makes some Dutch spiel an’ dey all quit tryin’ t’ git Mug- 
gins. Muggins t’ought dey was shbwin’ de yeller streak 
an’ starts after dem again, but I gives him de foot an’ 
makes him lay quiet on de floor while I’m givin’ de main 
guy de round-up. Well, I spends $4 in de joint squarin’ 
it, so’s we won’t get pinched, an’ de t’oughts of it come 
near makin’ me mix up wid Muggins when I gets him 
outside. Yes, y’ kin go broke on one t’ing an’ dat is dat 
no more of Muggins’ steers goes wid me.” 


14 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


CORKY, THE WRESTLER, THINKS HE OUGHT TO 
MAKE A FOOTBALL PLAYER. 

BARKEEP was pacing up and down 
behind the bar gritting his teeth and 
muttering. The seedy politician was 
behind the stove, and the hobo was 
over in a corner feigning sleep. 

Both were evidently afraid of an out- 
burst from the wrathy barkeep, and 
neither of them dared even to look at 
him. Things were getting to the point 
where the barkeep would have to give 
vent to his feelings in some way or 
other when little Jimmy, the cab driver, dropped in. 

“Hello, pal! Kinder chilly, ain’t it? Gimme a little 
booze.” 

^“Got de price?” 

“Wot’s dat? Got de price? Why cert ” 

“Well, den, slap it down!” 

“Well, you’re a good t’ing!” remarked the cab driver, 
as he produced the necessary change. “Did you ever 
see me askin’ fer a drink widout I had de coin?” 

“Aw, dat’s all right,” replied the barkeep. “I don’t 
know nuttin’ about youse guys. T been maced round 
here an’ dubbed round here an’ had de hooks t’run into 
me round here till I’m daffy!” 

“Well, don’t be blamin’ me fer yer troubles. Wot’s de 
matter wid you, anyway?” 

“Well, dey is just wan t’ing de matter wid me,” ex- 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


15 


ploded the barkeep, “an’ dat is dat I won’t stand fer dem 
ex-wrasslers an’ ex-fighters hangin’ round dis joint no 
more, an’ dat goes! You know dat guy round here dey 
call ‘Corky’ dat tells dem pipe-stories ’bout onct bein’ 
de champeen wrassler down east? Well, he’s in here dis 
evenin’ when in comes five er six o’ dem long-haired 
football players. Dey was all dere wid a little jag an’ dey 
was hollerin’ t’ings o’ 
der own make-up dat 
nobody ever heard 
afore, Uke a bunch o’ 

Comanche Indians. 

But dey was dere wid 
plenty o’ silver an’ 
der spendin’ it as fast 
as anybody, so I has 
t’ stand fer de hol- 
lerin’. Well, before 
long dey gets t’ tellin’ 
about de football 
game an’ how dis guy 
tackles dis wan an’ 
near breaks his ribs 
an’ how annoder 
bloke loses a lamp 
in de mix-up an’ wan “oh! dey didn’t do nottin* t’ hiai.” 
t’ing annoder. 

“Well, o’ course. Corky has t’ butt in an’ tell de dudes 
wot a peach of a wrassler he onct was an’ a few more 
smoke-up stories ’bout onct winnin’ de all-round at’letic 
contest somew’eres er odder an’ finally dey gets t’ 
showin’ him how dey plays football. 

“ ‘Now,’ says one guy wid a nut dat looked like a head 
o’ cabbage, ‘you’re supposed t’ be runnin’ wid de ball 



16 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


in yer mitt an’ we’re supposed t’ tackle you/ w’ich means, 
as fur as I kin make out, t’ mix up wid de guy wid de 
ball ketch-as-ketch-kin an’ t’row him down on de ground 
so’s he can’t get no furder wid it. Well, Corky puts his 
top-piece under his fin an’ starts into de bunch o’ dudes 
head first. Say, y’ never see nuttin like it in yer life! Dey 
didn’t do a t’ing t’ ’im! Dey just strong-arms him an’ 
rousts him around till I t’ought dey was no chance fer 
him t’ get away wid his life. Every wan o’ dem long- 
haired guys has some kind of a holt on him an’ you’d 
oughter see him w’en dey finally lets up. 

“He ain’t got free square inches o’ close on him dat 
ain’t tore, bof o’ his lamps is closed up, he’s shy ’bout 
free out of his check-rack an’ I b’lieve de ambulance guy 
said his leg an’ a couple o’ ribs was broke. 

“Well, dat daffy kid dat comes in here runs out in de 
street an’ hollers murder an’ dey was ’bout f irty coppers 
in de place in a minute. O’ course dey calls de wagon 
an’ frows all de dudes an’ everybody else in it. Dey 
sends Corky out t’ de hospital an’ I don’t care if he 
croaks. I ain’t sore so much ’bout him breakin’ up de 
game I was gettin’ over de bar, but daf s de fourt’ pinch 
dat’s come off in de joint in two weeks and dem 
bulls is liable t’ get f t’inkin’ we got a rough house here, 
see? Have annoder drink? Yes, dafs right, de next one 
o’ dem ex-scrappers dat starts f show people wot he kin 
do round here is liable f get mixed up wid yours truly, 
an’ dat don’t come out o’ no joke-book, see?” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


17 


THE BARKEEP TELLS A TALE OF THE 
SNAKES. 



COPPER on the beat dropped in about 
3 o’clock in the morning for his cus- 
tomary drink. 

“Say, me frind, tell me, fer th’ love 
av hivin, phwat was th’ disturbance in 
th’ place yistidy mornin’? Oi kern 
near sindin’ in a riot call 

“Didn’t y’ hear ’bout dat?” said the 
barkeep. Well, it was as funny a t’ing 
as ever you see in yer life. Y’ know 
de hobo ’round here dey calls Box-Car 
Joe? Well, he’s been agin de booze purty strong fer de 
las’ week and las’ night he was near due t’have de 
Brooklyn boys. Well, he comes in early in de evenin’ 
wid a case note he’d got his mitts on somewheres an’ I 
t’rows a few high boys into him after coppin’ de single. 

“He’s sittin’ over behin’ de stove growlin’ away to his- 
self when in troo de side door comes a guy dat makes 
me rub me lamps t’ see whedder I was asleep or not. Say, 
he was a peach! At first I t’ink he’s one o’ dem an- 
archists an’ den I t’ink he’s a mark dat’s broke out o’ 
some bughouse. He was de wildes’ lookin’ guy ever I see 
in me life an’ I keeps me lamps on de bloke an’ me mitts 
on de ice pick at de same time, until I sees dat he’s only 
troubled a little wid de snakes himself. 

“Well, de hobo gets a flash of him an’ lets one yell out 


18 


THE BARKBEP STORIES. 


o’ him an’ tears fer de front door. I knows dat he’ll be 
pinched sure if he gets out, so I beats him to de door and 
locks it. He begs me not t’let de wild-lookin’ guy eat 
him — t’inks he’s a gorilla, see? 

“I tells him dat'd be all right, an’ when I comes in 
again dere’s de odder bloke tryin’ t’ climb up de ice-box 
an’ hollerin’ t’ me not to let de hobo kill him wid his bat- 
tle-axe. 

‘‘Well, y’ never see 
such a circus in yer 
life! I tells de hobo 
de gorilla’s scared o’ 
him an’ tryin’ t’ get 
away an’ gives him a 
pop-bottle an’ tells 
him to go an’ croak 
him wid it. 

“Dey has a chase 
roun’ here dat upsets 
all de furniture in de 
place an’ I near fell 
on de floor laffln’. 
Finally de hobo falls 
over a chair an’ de 
odder bloke climbs 
up on top o’ de bar. 

THE COPPER ON THE BEAT. t ' i. j 

In a minute er two de 
guy on de bar swears he sees somethin’ climbin’ up de 
wall. De hobo t’inks he makes it too an’ dey has an argy- 
ment over what it is. 

“De hobo t’inks it’s a crockydile an’ de wild-lookin’ 
guy swears it’s a blue monkey an’ de first t’ing I knows 
der rollin’ on de floor t’ settle de argyment. Well, de 
circus finally winds up wid de hobo pullin’ near all de 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


19 


whiskers out o’ de odder bloke, an’ so I has t’split dem 
out. De wild-lookin’ guy’s hollerin’ murder an’ every- 
t’ing else an’ so 1 opens de side door an’ lets him out. 
He tears up de street yellin’ like a Zulu an’ gets pinched 
before he gets to de corner. I trows a beer-glass full o’ 
booze inter de hobo an’ he quiets down an’ goes t’ sleep 
bellin’ de stove. 

“I’ll bet I answers tree tousan’ questions 'bout what 
de row was as soon as I opens^de doors. Business was 
better in de joint fer an hour den it’s been in a mont’. 
Talk about yer continyous teeayters — dey ain’t one-two- 
seven wid de snaps dat come off in dis joint!” 






20 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 



THE BARKEEP TELLS HOW A COPPER GAVE MUG- 
GINS A FEW POINTERS ON BOXING. 

FEW of the barkeep’s friends had drop- 
ped in, and they were discussing be- 
tween drinks the lamentable dullness 
in all sporting affairs that are not con- 
sidered exactly legitimate. 

“Yes, dat’s right,” said the barkeep, 
after setting them, up in his turn. “I 
don’t know who’s doin’ it but de town 
is certainly on de bum. Dey ain’t no 
chance fer a guy t’ get hold of a dol- 
lar no more widout he joins out wid 
a mob o’ dips er gits a cannon an’ sticks somebody up, 
Dere’s more broken gamblers an’ bum prize-fighters 
round starvin’ t’ deaf den ever I see in me life before. 

“But, say, talkin’ ’bout prize-fightin’ — I wasn’t tellin’ 
you, was I, ’bout de go we has in here de odder night? 
Say, it was a cracker-jack! Don’t tell me nuttin’ about 
dem dat used ter be down to Tattersall’s an’ de lake front 
— why, dis one skinned any scrap ever come off before 
in de world! 

“Y’see, ’bout half-pas’ 4 in de mornin’ in drops a big 
copper daf s just got troo’ fer de night He’s still got de 
harness on an’ he’s ’bout half boozed. Der ain’t no one 
in de place but meself an’ Muggins. Muggins is a scrap- 
per out of a job an’ says dat he was onc’t de boxin’ teach- 
er fer a swell at’letic club. I don’t know whedder f stand 






THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


21 


fer dat tale er not, but anyhow lie’s a purty handy guy 
wid his mitts. 

“Well, de copper starts off tellin’ us ’bout all de bulls 
havin’ to work de dumb-bells an’ de Indian clubs after dis 
if dey wanted to hold der jobs, and den he tells us dat 
he’s been declared de boxin’ teacher at his station fer de 
rest o’ de bulls. 

“Muggins is all de time kiddin’ somebody y’ know, an’ 

he starts off askin’ de 
bull ’bout diff’rent 
t’ings in de scrappin’ 
line like he was a 
chump hisself. De 
bull gets all swelled 
up an’ you’d t’ink to 
hear him speil dat he 
was a reg’lar Chim 
Corbett. 

“Well, finally Mug- 
gins cracks dat he’d 
like t’ take a lesson or 
two from somebody 
dat knowed de game 
and de bull invites 
him up to de new 
gimmynas’um at de 
station. 

“Den I butts in and says: ‘Wot’s de matter wid startin’ 
in now an’ showin’ him a trick or two? You know I has 
an ol’ pair o’ gloves here dat’s been in de drawer as long 
as I kin remember. I brings dem out an’ Muggins an’ 
de bull each takes one an’ puts it on de right mitt. 

“De two o’ dem takes off der coats an’ spars up de cen- 
ter o’ de floor. 



‘MUGGINS COPS DE BULL ON DE JAW.’ 


22 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


“Muggins stalls round a minute er two air lets cle bull 
get in a couple. Den he kinder jolts him in de wind wid 
de bare mitt. De bull gets sore fer a minute, but Mug- 
gins claims it’s an accident. 

“Muggins gets an openin’ in a minute er two an’ gives 
him a peach between de lamps wid de glove. De bull 
looks kinder surprised an’ swings fer him wid his right. 
Muggins ducks an’ comes back wid bot’ mitts in de face 
an’ near puts de bull on de floor. Den dey goes at it 
fer fair. Muggins didn’t do a t’ing wid dat left mitt. 
He has de bull jabbed t’ deat’ in no time and de bull 
can’t hit him at all. 

“Well, Muggins finally cops him on de point o’ de 
jaw an’ lands him over in de corner an’ den trows off de 
glove an’ runs out o’ de joint. I was reachin’ for de beer 
mallet in case de bull should get up an’ start at me, but 
I looks over an’ sees dat he’s out good an’ plenty. I 
brings him to ’fore long an’ he wants to know what’s de 
matter. ‘Don’t y’ remember havin’ de go in here?’ says I. 

“ ‘O’ course/ says he. ‘Well,’ says I, ‘y’ near killed de 
bloke.’ 

“‘Why, cert’n’ly,’ says he; ‘why wouldn’t I?’ and he 
commenced to swell up. ‘I’m pretty handy wid me dukes, 
if I do say it meself — but wot did he hit me wid — a chair?’ 

“ ‘Naw,’ I says; ‘y’ fell be accident de las’ time y’ hit 
him an’ struck yer face agin de stove.’ 

“I tells him dat Muggins’ frens had took him home an’ 
dat he’d be lucky to be out in a week an’ I’ll bet he spent 
a ten-dollar note ’fore mornin’ tellin’ me what a swell 
he was wid de gloves an’ what suckers he was goin’ ter 
make o’ dem odder bulls up to de station.” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


23 


HE WANTED TO “CLEAN OUT THE 
JOINT.” 



BARKEEP was evidently in a pretty 
good humor as he poured out a drink 
for himself and waved his arm in invi- 
tation to the seedy politician and the 
hobo and one or two more “dead ones” 
in the place to join him. 

“Say,” he said, after everybody was 
“in line,” “I want t’ tell yotise guys 
about a hot one I see yesterday 
mornin’ out t’ Twenty-secon’ street. 

“Y’ see, de night before was de rum- 
myest I has in many a day an’ I must a’ slept two er t’ree 
hours in de chair , while de nigger watched so’s dat no- 
body’d run away wid de fixtures. So, y’ see, in de mornin’ 
when I gets off watch I don’t feel like goin’ t’ kip right 
away, so I t’inks I’ll go out an’ pay me fren’ out sout’ 
dat tends bar fer de Dutchman a little visit. 

“On me way out I gets a swell mush. ‘Pipe,’ ” said the 
barkeep, as he brought forth from under the back bar 
and held aloft for inspection a swell silk umbrella. “I 
guess dat’s a poor one, hey? ’Tain’t fit t’ carry, huh? 
And it was de softest ever y’ see! Dey was a swell bloke 
wid a silk top-piece sittin’ near de door sound asleep. 


24 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


He looks as dough he’s been out all night an’ I gets a 
flash o’ de mush between his knees an’ sees how soft it 
is. So jus’ before I’m goin’ t’ blow de car I goes t’ 
de door t’ stall de conductor, who was rubberin’ at de 
swell guy hisself purty hard. 

“I says t’ him: ‘Say, what’s dat big buildin’ over dere?’ 
An’ as soon as he rounds I grabs de mush. ‘Dat’s de 
orphan asylum,’ says he. ‘Oh,’ says I, ‘I tought mebbe 
it was de Chicago college where dem football players 
comes from. I’m a stranger in de city meself,’ an’ den I 
blows de car. 

“Well, I goes into 
me fren’s place an’ 
we was standin’ at de 
bar chewin’ de rag 
when in comes a guy 
dat’d scare a sucker 
into a fit. On de 
square, if I met him 
meself in a dark 
street I’d t’ink I was 
agin a stick-up. He 
cert’nly was a tough- 
lookin’ bloke an’ he 
goes up t’ de bar an’ 
says: ‘Draw me de 
highest one y’ got 
in yer joint,’ like dat. “dey hands him de scrubbin’- 
Me fren draws a p^il.- 

schooner an’ he cops it an’ den he rubbers around de joint 
an’ says: ‘Say, I t’ink I’ll jest start in and clean out de 
joint. See?’ 

“De porter is scrubbin’ de floor back o’ de bar an’ 
me fren’ reaches down an’ gets de pail an’ scrubbin’ brush. 




THE BARKEEP STORIES. 25 

De guy cracks, again, ‘Did y’ hear w’at I said? I t’ink 
I’ll jest clean out yer joint fer fun!’ 

“ ‘All right,’ says me fren’, as he hands de guy de 
scrubbin’ brush an’ pail an’ never cracks a smile, ‘Y’ kin 
start right ini’ ” 


26 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE BARKEEP TELLS OF A SLEIGH-RIDE. 

DTH’ rale sort av winty weather,” 
observed the copper on the beat to 
the barkeep the other night, when the 
mercury was trying to get out of hail- 
ing distance on the wrong side of the 
zero mark. 

“Well, it goes for you,” replied the 
barkeep, ^but I t’ink I’d take a chanct 
wid it at dat if der was any sleigh- 
ridin’. Say, dere’s de greatest game 
in de world, dat sleigh-ridin’! I 
never was out before in me life till ’bout a mont’ ago an’ 
I’m blowed if I ain’t stuck on de game. Was y’ ever 
sleigh-ridin’?” 

“Phwat chance wud Oi have fer a shleigh-ride widout 
dhey’d put shleigh runners on dthe cable cars or dthe 
pathrol wagoiis?” 

“Dat’s right. I fergot ’bout dat. A guy’d oughter 
have better sense den t’ ask a turk like you dat never 
seen no sleighs in Ireland an’ ain’t been t’inkin’ of nothin’ 
else in dis country only how t’ git plenty o’ corn beef an’ 
cabbage free times a day. Oh, now, dat’s all right. Y’ 
needn’t get sore. I’m only kiddin’. I wanter tell yer 
’bout dat sleigh ride I has. It was a swell, aldough troo 
bad management it wound up kinder rummy. 

“Y’ see, one night I’m out sout’ wid free of me fren’s 
w’en one of de gang cracks dat it would be a swell night 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


27 


fer a sleighride. ‘Dat’s wot it would/ says dat race-horse 
tout dey calls de pup, who was ’long wid us, ‘let’s get a 
team an’ go. ‘What’yer talkin’ about,’ says I, ‘yer purty 
lucky t’ be ridin’ in de street cars.’ 

“ ‘Dat’ll be all right,’ says de pup, an’ he goes to de 
telyphone an’ sends to a swell liv’ry stable fer a sleigh 
wid two seats an’ de reg’lar driver, givin’ de liv’ry guy de 
name of a bloke dat lives near dere an’ has nothin’ but de 
dough. Oh, I guess dat was a poor-lookin’ outfit we has 

goin’ down de bouly- 
vard in ’bout t’irty 
minutes! I tell you 
dere’s de greatest 
game in de world — 
dat sleigh-ridin’l W’y, 
we was all feelin’ like 
we owned two or t’ree 
o’ dem brown-stone 
fronts we was driv- 
in’ by. 

“Well, we stops 
out sout’ to a place 
“HE WALLOPS DE PUP IN DE JAW.” jat a fren’ of de pup’s 

owns, an’ while we’re in dere in comes a copper wid a 
bulldog on de end of a rope. De copper declares hisself 
dat his dog kin lick any dog of his weight in Chicago 
an’ o’ course de pup has t’ start an argyment wid him. 
Finally de copper gets .sore an’ offers t’ bet any part of 
fifty dat he’s right. 

“I’ll bet yer fifty dat I got a dog kin lick yer dog an’ 
put up a $io forfeit in dis gen’lman’s hands,’ says de pup, 
pointin’ t’ me fren’ Muggins, who we has give de knock- 
down to de copper as de son of one of de head guys 
’mong dem downtown coppers. ‘All right,’ says de cop- 



28 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


per, handin’ Muggins his ten. Now dere ain’t hardly as 
much as ten cents in de gang, much less a ten case note, 
but dat never feazed de pup at all. He goes out to de 
driver we has wid us an’ says: ‘How much money you 
got?’ ‘ ’Bout twelve case,’ says de driver. ‘Gimme ten,’ 
says de pup; ‘I ain’t got nothin’ less den a century note 
an’ don’t want ter break it here, fer fear somebody might 
get a flash of me roll an’ stick me up fer it’ 

“Well, den, y’ see, we’re purty strong. Muggins has de 
copper’s ten an’ de driver’s ten an’ he spends near all of 
it over de bar while we’re framin’ up de dog fight. Well, 
finally we blow an’ start back downtown, makin’ a date 
wid de copper fer de nex’ night. 

“Dey tells de driver to stop to a certain place near 
Twelfth street an’ I’m sittin’ up in de front seat ’long side 
of him an’ wonderin’ how de sleigh ride is goin’ to wind 
up an’ de odder t’ree gets in de back seat. 

“W’en we gets near Twelfth street I rubbers ’round an’ 
if de rest of de gang ain’t blowed de rig I hope to croak 
right now ! 

“Well, I’m a purty sore guy ’bout de way dey has 
t’rowed me down, but I stalls meself out of it de best I 
kin an’ tells de driver dat de little guy — dat’s de pup — 
is de one dat ordered de rig. 

“Well, de pup, like a sucker, goes to de joint where he 
orders de team after he blows de sleigh an’ he’s standin’ 
agin’ de bar ’bout half an hour after w’en in comes de 
driver, who don’t do nottin’ but walk up an’ wallop de 
pup in de jaw widout sayin’ a word — an’ he come very 
near puttin’ him out. 

“Den de driver goes out o’ de place an’ goes an’ gets 
a package aboard, thinkin’ o’ how he blows his ten, an’ 
den he goes back an’ hands de pup annoder wallop in de 
jaw. 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


29 


“Well, ’bout t’ree days after in comes de pup to see me. 
‘Hello, pal,’ he says: ‘say, y’ know de odder night w’en 
we was out togedder? Well, you was in wid everyt’ing 
dat come off, wasn’t you? I says ‘w’y cert’nly,’ an’ de 
pup swings fer me jaw an’ lands a peach, fer y’ see, I 
wasn’t lookin’ fer nottin’ like dat. 

“I starts to go at him, but he runs away an’ trows up his 
mitts an’ says: ‘Now, nix. I got two wallops from dat 
driver after you tells him I was de guy dat orders de 
team, an’ I jest wanted to declare you in wid dem, dat’s 
all!’ ” 


30 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


CHRISTMAS NIGHT IN “THE JOINT.” 

HRISTMAS had come and gone and 
it would not take more than a casual 
glance at the barkeep to tell that his 
had been a particularly joyous one. 

“Say,” he said to the pup, who looked 
a little the worse for wear himself, 
“w’en a guy gets ’round so’s he kin 
t’ink o’ dem, dere was a many a funny 
one come off in here Chris’mas night. 
T’inkin’ o’ dem’s ’bout de only t’ing 
keeps me lamps open. Somewheres 
along in de ev’nin’ w’en t’ings was purty lively a bloke 
dat looked like a dog in de face opens de door ’bout a 
foot an’ rubbers in. 

“I guess he t’ought de place was all right, fer he kind 
o’ slides in an’ sorter does a two-step polky up t’ de bar 
wid a six-inch grin on his dial dat ’ud make y’ t’ink o’ 
Grover Clevelan’ readin’ in de papers ’bout wot de peo- 
ple t’ought o’ de gran’ beef he makes de odder day w’en 
he declares hisself t’ England. Well, he gets up on de 
footrail an’ reaches over de bar an’ blows a breat’ in me 
face dat ’d come near makin’ a sober man quit de booze 
fer de balance of his life an’ says: ‘Say, gimme a drink 
o’ booze. Y’ understan’ wot I mean? Booze. I got 
fifteen here, see, an’ don’t want t’ get no varnish fer it, 
dat’s all.’ 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


31 


“I takes a look at de guy an’ reaches fer de ‘hobo’ 
bottle. ‘Dis is kinder soft/ I says t’ meself, * 'tain’t ofen 
I gets t’ sell bum booze fer fifteen;’ fer, y’ see, on de 
square, w’en I looks at de guy I don’t t’ink he’s ever 
drank anyt’ing but bar’lhouse booze in his life an’ 
wouldn’t know de right t’ing if he got it. Well, de hobo 
kinder looks s’picious at de bottle, but finally pours his- 
self out a drink. De firs’ mout’ful he cops comes out of 


him like he was a 
lawn - sprinklin’ ma- 
chine. He never says 
a word, but jus’ puts 
de res’ o’ de drink 
down on de bar an’ 
pushes it over t’ me 
like he was shovin’ a 
stack o’ reds between 
de tray-jack, an’ den 
he says: Tut de res’ 
o’ dat back in de 
lamp,’ and turns for 
de door. 


il , 



“Say, de look on 
dat guy’s face as he 
lef’ de bar ’d turn de 
heart of a wooden In- 


'TAIN’T NO LIE ’BOUT YOU BEIN’ 
WAN O’ DE GANG.” 


dian, so I goes out an’ gets him, drags him back, tells 
him I’d mistook de party, gives him a big bowl o’ de 
best in de house, an’ sends him away wid a little flask o’ 
de same for a Chris’mas present. ’Twasn’t in me t’ turn 
down a guy dat knowed good booze like him. 

“A little later in the ev’nin’ in comes a couple o’ husky- 
looking guys an’ says t’ a kid wat was helpin’ me out 


32 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


bellin’ de bar, ‘Give us two beers, for two engineers,’ 
like dat. 

“ ‘Wot do I care wot yez are,’ says de kid, fer he t’onglit 
dey was joshin’ him, ‘I s’pose y’ t’ink you’ll get a little 
more beer wid dat kin’ of a spiel?’ an’ it took me near 
half an hour t’ square dat argyment. But de funniest 
t’ing of all was a little guy wid his hair about a foot long 
an’ parted in de middle an’ one o’ dem ‘Trilby’ curls in 
de front, tellin’ de gang wot a sport he was. Y’ see, he 
has t’ree er four beers in him an’ gets insulted^ w’en 
everybody in de place didn’t take off der sky-pieces w’en 
he come in. He walks up t’ de bar an’ trows out his mitt 
t’ me an’ says: 

“ ‘Hello, dere, ol’ chap,’ er somet’in’ like dat, ‘don’t 
yer know me? I’m Willie Wilkins, an’ y’ll find me a 
hotter sport den any o’ yez when y’ know me,’ er words 
t’ dat effec’. 

“‘Why, hello, Willie!’ says I, ‘I come near fergettin’ 
you! An’ ’taint no lie, ’bout you bein’ one o’ de gang. 
Y’ might as well buy a drink.’ An I gives de boys de of- 
fice t’ git up t’de bar. He never weakens w’en I give him 
back t’irty-five cents out of a two-case note fer de round, 
an’ I gives him a couple o’ hot-backs an’ has him buyin’ 
annoder in a minute er two. I t’inks I’ll fine him good 
an’ plenty dis time an’ get rid o’ him, fer he cert’nly give 
me de heartburn. W’en de drinks was up he says: 

“ ‘Aw, what does I owe yer, bar-boy?’ 

“ ‘Dat’ll be five-tirty,’ I says. 

“He starts to make a squawk, but I slaps him on de 
back and tells dat dem two gen’lmen, pointin’ out me 
fren’ de politician an’ his side-kicker, de hobo, had just 
come in an’ had a drink wid him, an’ as dey never drank 
nottin’ but de wine I couldn’t offer dem nottin’ else. 

“O’ course, de dood has t’ stan’ fer it, but I t’ought 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


-33 


he had de yaller janders w’en he-was diggin’ up de coin. 
O’ course, I tries t’ round him up an’ tell him wot a swell 
he was, but ^s soon as he gets his change he done a hot- 
foot fer de door an’ I don’t t’ink he’ll be ’round dis way 
again fer awhile. Well, here’s a go. Coin’ t’ kip? Well, 
good night. Wish’t I was goin’ wid you — ain’t been t’ 
sleep fer t’ree days. I won’t do a t’ing t’ dat bed in de 
mornin’.” 


34 


THE BAKKEEP STORIES. 


THE “TOUGH GUY” FROM CRIPPLE 
CREEK. 


HWAT wuz dat case yez has at tli’ 
Armory yistiddy, Mike?” said the cop- 
per on the beat, after he had had his 
regular morning drink and lighted a 
“rope” the barkeep had offered him. 

“Aw, dat was just a case of a sucker 
gettin’ his doos,” replied the barkeep, 
as he lighted one out of a different 
box; “just a case of one o’ dem half- 
wise guys dat comes ter town wid a 
little money an’ a whole lot o’ gall an’ 
t’inks he kin run t’ings on State street t’suit hisself, 
gettin’ de trimmin’ dat was natu’lly cornin’ to ’im. 

“Y’ see, yesterday morniri’ deys a few o’ de boys be- 
sides meself in de place, drinkin’ a little beer wid a grafter 
dat jest come to town, wid plenty o’ de coin, after bein’ 
out wid de circus all summer. Well, we was all feelin’ 
purty good an’ ready fer anyt’ing, when in comes a mark, 
wid a wide hat, tobacco juice all over his shirt, high-heel 
boots, an’ a jag. 

“He goes up to de bar an’ says: ‘Gimme a drink o’ rye 
licker, young felly.’ I gives him de booze an’ was just 
. givin’ one o’ de gang de office t’ git to him an’ see wot 
he had, when he hollers out: ‘I reckon dat’s purty good 
licker, young felly, but it ain’t good enough t’ pay fer, 
see? I’m de toughest guy ’n de Cripple’s Creek’ — or 



THE I3ARKEEP STORIES. 


35 


soiiiewheres else, I don’t just remember — ‘an’,’ says he, 
‘an’ I don’t keer who knows it!’ 

‘‘ ‘Now, look here, mister,’ says I, ‘don’t make no 
trouble in here. I don’t know what y’ are in de Cripple’s 
Creek, but if you don’t slap down fifteen fer dat booze 
you’ll have ter be a purty tough guy t’ stand off de game 

you’ll get in here.’ 
Well, de guy starts 
hollerin’ like a Co- ' 
manche Indian an’ 
doin’ a war dance 
roun’ de joint, so I 
gets de ice-pick in me 
mitt an’ gives de 
gang de office t’ 
ready up fer him, an’ 
starts from behind de 
bar. De guy springs 
a big forty-four an’ 
cuts loose wid it at de 
’lectric light. I s’pose 
he t’ought everybody 
’ud tear out o’ de 
joint, but y’ ought ter 
see de game he got! 
Muggins — de scrap- 
per, y’ know — hits 
him from behin’ wid 
a chair an’ knocks him an’ his cannon over amongst de 
rest o’ de boys. When dey got troo wid him y’ wouldn’t 
a’ knowed it was de same bloke. . De first wallop he gets 
he shows de yeller streak an’ hollers, but dat makes it 
all de worse fer him. While de gang is trowin’ it into 
him de ‘handy kid’ was friskin’ him an’ finds ’bout forty 



“HE CUTS LOOSE WID HIS CANNON.” 


36 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


bucks an’ slings de roll t’ me. Den we cuts a hole in de 
top of his sky-piece an’ trows him out in de street. I 
cops de cannon meself, but I has t’ sling it back t’ de 
judge dis mornin’. Well, as soon as de guy was next 
dat he’s blowed his coin, he tears to de coppers wid his 
troubles an’ I’m pinched. 

“I tells de judge in de mornin’ dat de guy comes in 
an’ refuses ter settle fcr a drink an’ den starts shootin’. 

I has me witnesses an’ everyt’ing an’ dere was nuttin’ to 
it. De judge asks de guy did he shoot an’ he says, ‘Yes, 

I reck’n I did,’ an’ den, o’ course, it was all off. 

“ ‘Anybody dat gets drunk enough t’ be shootin’ out 
de lights, de chances are, don’t know whedder he had 
any coin er not,’ says de judge. ‘You better go back t’ 
Cripple Creek an’ confine yer shootin’ t’ coyotes an’ horse- ^ 
thieves after dis.’ And he was de cheapest-lookin’ tough 
guy ever y’ seen in yer life when he screwed out o’ de 
dock. Dem gun-fighters from de wil’ west may be de 
whole t’ing where dey come from, but dey don’t do very 
well on State street,” concluded the barkeep, as he 
handed the copper another drink. 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


37 


THE SLEIGHT-OF-HAND MAN. 

GUYS seen cle hobo cle last day er 
two?” inquired the barkeep of the rest 
of the talent the other evening. “No? 
Well, I don’t t’ink you will see him fer 
awhile anyhow, an’ dat ain’t no pipe 
dream. 

“Dey was a guy in here de odder 
ev’nin’ dat made de hobo t’ink dat it 
was cert’nly all off wid him, an’ it ain’t 
no two to one dat he ain’t in de lake er 
de bug house right now. Y’ see, de 
guy drops in here an’ gets to tellin’ us 'bout bein’ one o’ 
dem gazabos dat does dem sleight-o’-hand tricks at de 
teeayters — you know wot I mean — magicians! Dat’s 
right. Dat’s a kind of a tough name t’ t'ink of off de 
reel. Dey was nobody in here but me an’ de copper an’ 
de pup an’ de hobo, an’ de guy finally gets to showin’ 
us wot he kin do. 

“He cert’nly was a swell. He’d trow a four-bit piece 
up in de air an’ it never would come down. Den he’d 
lift up de bull’s cap an’ dere’d be de coin on de top of 
his head. Den he’d put a little paper ball in one o’ de 
pup’s ears an’ drags a hull newspaper out o’ de odder one. 
He done all de old tricks an’ a hull lot o’ new ones, an’ 
he was as good as ever I see in me life. De hobo was 
sittin’ over in de chair watchin’ him wid his lamps open 
like he seen a ghost. De guy sees him an’ asks me kin 



38 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


he have some fun wid him. De guy tells me dat he is 
jest cornin’ from de teeayter an’ has some o’ de stuff he 
works wid wid him. He tells me dat he don’t want t’ 
spring his trick on de hobo if he’s been boozin’ at all, 
as it’s liable to scare him a bit. ‘Dat’s all right,’ says I, 
‘I’ll take a chanct dat you won’t scare dat bloke wid 
nottin,’ widout you got a vag warrant,’ and den I calls 

de hobo up to de 
bar. 

“ ‘Me fren’,’ de guy 
says to de hobo, ‘I’m 
goin’ to show dese 
gen’lmen here one o’ 
de greatest tricks o’ 
modern times,’ an’ 
den he takes de hobo 
out in de middle o’de 
floor an’ grabs him by 
de nose wid his mitt 
an’ drops ’bout a 
dozen eggs out of de 
hobo’s nose into his 
hat. As soon as he 
blows his holt o’ de 
hobo’s nose de hobo 
starts to back away from de guy, lookin’ at him like he 
t’ought he was de divil er sometin’. 

“ ‘Dat’s only de first part o’ de trick,’ says the guy, but 
de liobo starts to balk ’bout goin’ any furder wid it. I 
tells him to let the gen’lman go ahead an’ show us de 
trick, an’ I trows a booze into him t’ fix him up a bit. 
Y’ see, de hobo’s been again de booze good an’ strong, 
an’ he don’t know wot t’ t’ink o’ de guy. Well, we finally 
ribs him up, but he goes to de post actin’ very bad. De 



HE PRACTICES ON THE HOBO. 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


39 


sleight-o’-hand guy grabs cle hobo by cle nose an’ says, 
‘Open yer mout’,’ like dat. 

“ ‘I will now place one o’ dem eggs in de gen’lman’s 
mout’,’ says de guy, and den he puts de egg in an’ tells 
de hobo to shut up his mout’ for a minute. De hobo is 
ready to balk on de hull job an’ take to de woods any 
minute, but he sees dat I got me lamps on him an’ he’s 
scared I’ll bar him out o’ de place if he don’t act purty 
nice wid me. 

“ ‘Now,’ says de teeayter guy, ‘de egg’s hatched,’ an’ 
if he don’t open de hobo’s mout’ an’ jerk out a shanghai 
rooster I never want t’ draw aniToder glass o’ beer. O’ 
course it ain’t on de square, but de guy done it swell. 
Well, as soon as de hobo got a flash o’ dat rooster he 
trim bot’ mitts in de air, lets one yell out o’ him dat ’ud 
make you t’ink a bunch o’ Comanche Indians had broke 
loose in de place, an’ den he lams out de back door an’ 
tears up de middle o’ de street. Snaky, see? T’ought he 
had de Brooklyn boys, sure. Chances are dey got him 
out in de Washingtonian home er somewheres right now, 
an’ he’s probably t’inkin’ he’s coughin’ up a rooster a 
minute. 

“It don’t do fer a guy dat’s boozed t’ have much dealin’s 
wid dem kind o’ guys. He kin see nuff t’ings come off 
round here dat’s on de square to start him on de road to 
Snakesville widout havin’ anyt’ing framed up fer him.” 


40 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE BARKEEP TALKS OF WAR. 

I TELLIN’ youse ’bout de guy dat 
was in here New Year’s eve tryin’ t’ 
frame up a regyment o’ soldiers from 
de gang roun’ dese corners t’ fight dem 
Englishmens w’en dey come over?” 
asked the barkeep of the politician and 
the copper on the beat. “No? Well, 
say, dere was de swellest talker ever I 
heard in me life, an’ I’ve heard all de 
crackerjack side-show spielers in de 
business. Y’ see, Toosday ev’nin’ dere’s 
a lot o’ de gang in de place, layin’ round an’ waitin’ t’ 
butt in wid de first live one dat ’ud drop in, w’en in comes 
dis guy dat I’m. tellin’ youse about. He was a kinder 
hobo-lookin’ bloke at dat, but y’ could see he was no 
dummy. He didn’t buy no drink, but he was gettin’ 
more ’tention inside o’ t’ree minutes den if he was spend- 
in’ a tousan’ dollars a minute. 

“He starts off tellin’ de boys ’bout havin’ been one o’ 
de main lootinants in Coxey’s army, an’ as de hobo — y’ 
know de guy I mean — he was wid de same outfit an’ has 
been tellin’ ev’ybody ever since how soft eatin’s was den, 
an how. he gains t’irty pounds on de trip t’ Washing- 
ton, why, y’ see, ev’ybody pays a hull lot of attention t’ 
dis guy I’m tellin’ youse ’bout and wants t’ fin’ out 
wedder de hobo has been kiddin’ dem er not. Well, 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


41 


Coxey s lootinant gets out in de middle o’ de floor an’ 
trows his mitts around like he was one o’ dem teeayter 
guys an’ makes a spiel ’bout how dis country was bein’ in- 
sulted by dem Englishmens, dat skinned any ‘freedom- 
fer-Ireland’ talk at de Hibernian picnic dat ever youse 
guys heard in yer life. Say, it was a corker! Before he 
gets troo he has some o’ dem boozers an’ hobos round 
here dat don’t hardly 
knows w’at’s de dif- 
f’rence between de 
stars an’ stripes an’ 
any odder flag an’ 
couldn’t name over 
t’ree o’ de presidents 
o’ dis country t’ save 
der necks, hollerin’ 
jus’ de same as dey 
holler fer a First 
ward alderman, after 
de ’lection’s over. 

W’en he winds up 
dere ain’t one in de 
push dat wouldn’t 
been willin’ t’ cop a 
Winchester an’ march 
t’ de front dat minute. 

Say, dere ain’t not- 
tin’ like a good con talk t’ git a mob wid yer, is der? 
A guy dat kin make one has us all faded. 

“W’en de bloke gets troo makin’ his spiel I cuts in — 
not wantin’ t’ be a knocker er nottin’ like dat, y’ know — 
an’ says t’ de giiy, ‘Say,’ I says, ‘say, me fren’, dey ain’t 
goin’ ter be no war wid dem Englishmens, is dey?’ 

“ ‘How d’ yer know dey ain’t?’ says he. 



42 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


‘“I didn't say dey wasn’t,’ says I; ‘I jest asks.yer if 
dey was.’ 

“ ‘Well, young felly,’ says he, ‘jes’ tell me wot give yer 
de idee der ain’t,’ says he, an’ I kinder starts t’ git sore at 
de guy, fer he acts like he t’ought he was talkin’ to a 
chump. 

“ ‘I only knows wot I reads in de papers, Mr. Coxey,’ 
says I, like dat, ‘an’ I want yer t’ understan’ one t’ing, 
dat I ain’t tryin’ t’ knock yer game er nothin’ like dat. I’m 
only lookin’ fer infermation.’ 

“Chances are we’d a’ had a scrap over de little ol’ argy- 
ment, fer de Coxey guy was gittin’ up on his ear, but jes’ 
den in comes a bloke wid brass buttons on his benny an’ 
little side w’iskers on his face an’ plenty o’ de booze in 
him. He comes up t’ de bar an’ cracks dis way : 

“ ‘I say, barman, ’ave yer any ’alf an’ ’alf on drawft?’ 

“ ‘Naw, but we ’ave some bloomin’ stout in a bleedin’ 
bottle dat I kin let yer ’ave if y’ slap down two bits,’ says 
I, like dat, kinder kiddin’ him along a little, y’ see. Well, 
he buys a bottle o’ stout an’ after he drinks it he pulls 
out a paper dat he got from over in Englan’ an’ starts 
readin’ out from it ’bout the ‘houtrageous cheek o’ de 
Hawserican president,’ er sbmet’in’ like dat. 

“ ‘Is dey goin’ t’ be a war?’ says I. 

“ ‘Hi down’t know,’ says he, like dat. ‘Hi ’ope der is. 
We’ll lick de stuffin’ out o’ de blawsted Yankees!’ An’ 
den he turns round t’ de gang an’ hollers, ‘ ’Ooray fer 
old England!’ 

“Oh, dey didn’t do nottin’ t’ dat guy! Every one o’ 
de gang tried t’ git a wallop at him at onct. 

“After dey has rousted him out o’ de place I picks up 
t’irteen brass buttons an’ near ’nuff pieces o’ dat coach- 
man’s ovycoat t’ fill a bushel basket. - 

“All o’ de gang come back in a minute er two ’cept de 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


43 


Coxey guy. I guess he must a’ stuck to de Englishman 
till de two o^ dem got pinched. I tell yer, dis country 
needs a war t’ stir up a lot o’ dem dead men dat’s walkin’ 
’round. 

“But I’ll tip one t’ing off t’ yer,” concluded the barkeep, 
as he invited his friends to join him. “If ever dey is a 
war started here’s a guy, dat’ll take t’ de woods. A guy 
takes nuff chances o’ gettin’ croaked ’round here widout 
goin’ out an’ lettin’ dem shoot dem gatlin’ guns at yer. I 
don’t want no part of it.” 


44 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE “GIVE-UP." 


INQUIRED the barkeep of his friend 
the copper on the beat as he joined him 
in his regular “mornin’s mornin’/’ “do 
you know anyt’ing ’bout dat knock- 
out graft?” 

“Knockouts, is it? Well, yis; Oi 
may say dthat Oi do. Oi’ve seen wan 
or two purty good knockouts in me 
toime, an’ if Oi do be sayin’ it mesilf 
Oi’ve knocked out a few fellys mesilf.” 

“Yes, chances^ are,” replied the bar- 
put out a few harmless drunks wid dat 
small-sized ball bat you got in yer mitt, w’en you t’ought 
you had to show yer at’ority. But I ain’t talkin’ ’bout 
puttin’ a guy out wid a wallop er nottin’ like dat; I’m 
talkin’ ’bout givin’ a guy de dope to put him out so’s y’ 
kin cop wot coin he has.” 

“Oh, yis! Oi t’ink Oi’ve been tould av sich worruk, 
but Oi don’t know whether it do be dthe truth er not. 
Phwat d’ yez think?” 

“I was only askin’ t’ see wedder you was next to de 
graft er not. A guy dat was in here dis ev’nin’ was wot 
made me t’ink ’bout it. I might as well tell you ’bout dis 
bloke, anyhow, aldough I got no business makin’ suckers 
wise. Y’ see, dey’s a guy comes in here wot used t’ 
know me fren’ Muggins in New York, an’ him an’ Mug- 



keep, “you have 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


45 


gins was tellin’ me ’bout how dcy used t’ be old pals 
togedder on de Bowery, 

“ ‘I’m on me way out west t’ git de coin/ de guy tells 
Muggins. 

“ ‘Where you goin’?- says Muggins. 

“ ‘Out to dat creek.’ 


“‘Wot creek?’ 

“W’y, de Cripple’s Creek,’ says de guy. ‘ ’Tain’t much 

furder west den dis 
town, is it?’ 

“ ‘Oh, no. You 
could walk it easy 
’nuff if you didn’t 
have de price to ride,’ 
says Muggins, kiddin’ 
him a little, fer, y’ see, 
dat New York guy 
never was more den 
ten miles away from 
de Bowery before in 
his life an’ didn’t have 
no more idee where 
de Cripple Creek was 
den dat hobo over 
dere has o’ where he’s 
goin’ t’ eat de day 
after to-morrow. 
‘How are you goin’ 
to cop de coin?’ says Muggins; ‘got a new graft?’ 

“ ‘I got de swellest knockout ever dey was in de world,’ 
says de Bowery guy, ‘an’ dey tell me der ain’t a guy in 
de Cripple’s Creek dat ain’t runnin’ round wid his pockets 
full o’ dat gold money.’ 

“ ‘Yes, dat’s all right,’ says I, ‘but you know wot dem 



‘HE'LL HAND YOU ANYT’ING HE'S 
* GOT.’* 


46 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


Cripple Creek guys’ll do to you if dey ketch you trowin’ 
de knockout into anybody. Dey. won’t give you no 
chance t’ tell yer troubles to no judge.’ 

“ ‘Dat’s all right,’ says de Bowery guy, ‘I'll take a 
chance wid dem. De beauty ’bout dis knockout I got is 
dat dey can’t nobody get nex’ to it. De only guy dat was 
nex’ to it was de guy wot made it an’ tipped it off t’ me, 
an’ he croaked t’ree mont’s ago.’ 

“Just den me fren’ de pup has to cut in. ‘Ain’t you 
heard ’bout de new one?’ he says to de Bowery guy. ‘No? 
W’y, it’s a swell. Skins de knockout t’irty ways from de 
jack! Dey calls it de “give-up.” All you has to do is to 
give it to a guy an’ den in a couple o’ minutes ask him 
fer anyt’ing he’s got an’ he’ll hand it to you. He don’t 
go out at all. Den he’ll go on off an’ go t’ bed an’ forget 
where he’s been. It’s de swellest t’ing in de world, I 
tell you.’ 

“I didn’t t’ink de Bowery guy would stand fer dat one, 
but he does. Well, anyhow, a guy dat ain’t got nut 
enough to get de money no odder way only wid de 
knockout is liable to stand fer most anyt’ing. 

“ ‘Kin y’ git me some o’ dat stuff?’ says de Bowery guy. 
‘Sure,’ says de pup, ‘I’ve got some of it wid me.’ An’ he 
shows de Bowery guy a little bottle o’ water he has 
framed up fer him. 

“ ‘Now, I’ll tell you wot we’ll do,’ says de pup. ‘See 
dat big guy over dere?’ an’ he points to me fren’, de kid — 
de fighter, you know — who’s sittin’ over in de corner read- 
in’ de paper. ‘Well, dat guy ain’t got nottin’, but you kin 
just try it on him, anyhow. Ask him over to have a 
drink.’ Well, dey calls de kid over an’ he asks fer a drink 
o’ booze, an’ den de pup stalls him an’ de Bowery guy 
pours a little o’ de pup’s ‘give-up’ in de drink. De kid 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


47 


cops It an’ in ’bout t’ree minutes de Bowery guy asks him 
fer his necktie. 

“ ‘Wot’re you doin’, kiddin’ me?’ says de kid, an’ de 
Bowery guy don’t know wot t’ make of it. But de pup 
tells him dat he didn’t give him enough o’ de dope, so 
dey gives him annoder drink, an’ dis time de Bowery guy 
pours in enough t’ kill a horse if de stuff was on de 
square. In ’bout five minutes de Bowery guy goes at 
de kid kinder rough, an’ says, grabbin’ him by de collar, 
‘Gimme dat coat!’ like dat. 

“ ‘Wot’s de matter wid you, anyhow?’ says de kid, ‘are 
you daffy? I’ll give you a poke in de nose in a minute.’ 

“ ‘Dat’s all right,’ says de Bowery guy, ‘jest take off 
dat coat an’ vest,’ an’ den de kid hands him a peach 
between de eyes an’ near puts him out. While we’re 
splittin’ dem out de pup screws, an’ w’en de Bowery guy 
gets next dat it was all a kid he starts out to look fer 
him an’ swears he’ll never go back t’ de Bowery no more 
till he gets him. I don’t know whedder he found him er 
not, fer I ain’t seen de pup since. But it ain’t no t’ree to 
one dat he didn’t trow some o’ dat knockout o’ his dat 
was on de square into de pup t’ get even if he did 
find him.” 


48 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE BARKEEP DISCUSSES HYPNOTISM. 

SAID the barkeep, as he went over 
and sat down beside his friend the 
seedy politician, “was yon around last 
night w’en dat guy dat called hisself a 
‘hipnytist’ was in here?” 

"Naw,” replied the politician sleepily, 
“who was de gazabo?” 

“I don’t know who he was er w’ere 
he come from, but he was a kind of a 
dago-lookin’ guy wid w’iskers. He 
comes in here an’ starts tellin’ me 
’bout his graft, an’ on de square, I t’ought he was bug 
house. An’ between me an’ you, I won’t stand fer dat 
game o’ his — dat ‘hipnytisum’ er wotever he calls it. 
Dem guys has got t’ show me somet’in’ before I’ll stan’ 
fer dem tales dey tell. I t’ink it’s all de bull con.” 

And having thus relieved himself, the barkeep settled 
in his chair, put his feet up against the stove, offered the 
politician a “rope,” and then proceeded to tell about it. 

"Dis hipnytisum guy tells me dat he kin make any- 
body do anyt’ing he wants dem to wid dis graft o’ his. 
‘Dat’s softer den me fren’ de pup’s give-up dope,’ says I, 
fer o’ course I t’ink he’s kiddin’ me. ‘I don’t know 
nottin’ ’bout dat, but what I’m tellin’ youse is on de level,’ 
says de guy, not usin’ dem words exac’ly, fer he talked 
like one o’ dem silk-stockin’ political spielers. 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


49 


“ ‘Do you t’ink you kin hypnytise de barkeeper into 
settin’ about five beers up on de bar fer us?’ says de pup. 
*Oh, no; dat wouldn’t be jest right,’ says de guy, ‘but I’ll 
buy youse a drink,’ an’ he slaps down de coin, so we sees 
dat he ain’t a bad feller, anyhow. 

“ ‘But I kin hipnytise de barkeeper if I want to,’ says 
de guy after awhile. ‘Do you t’ink you' could?’ says I. 
‘Not in a t’ousand years, me fren’. De only t’ing dat kin 

hipnytise m e into 
puttin’ drinks up on 
dat bar is de coin. 
You’re daffy any time 
you t’ink I’ll stan’ fer 
any game o’ con dat 
you er anybody else 
kin trow into me, 
whedder you calls it 
hipnytism er de plain 
o 1 d conalorum. I 
kinder t’ink you’re 
stringin’ me, anyhow.’ 

“De guy kinder 
gets sore at me not 
b’lievin’ wot he says, 
an’ buys annoder 
drink t’ show dat he’s 
on de level, I s’pose. ‘Well, if you kin do wot you say 
you kin wid dat graft o’ yours,’ says I, ‘you’d ought t’ 
have more money den anybody. Wot’s de matter wid 
goin’ out on de street and trowin’ dat hipnytisum into 
de first sucker dat shows up wid a spark in sight er dat 
looks like ready money? If you kin do wot you say de 
sucker ’d hand you wot he’s got, wouldn’t he? An’ den 
you could trow some more o’ dat hipnytisum into him 





‘•DE 1I0I30 TAKES TO DE WOODS.” 


50 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


an’ make him go on off 'bout his business er go an’ jump 
in de lake, er anyt’ing else. You got to show me some- 
t’in’ before I’ll stand fer it.’ Den I sees de hobo sleepin’ 
in a chair over in de corner. ‘Say,’ 1 says to de guy, ‘see 
dat guy over again’ de wall? Well, he’s got t’irty cents 
dat I know of, an’ if you kin hipnytise him into cornin’ 
up to de bar an’ slappin’ it down fer a drink I won’t say 
no more an’ I’ll quit me job tomorrow an’ take you out 
wid me t’ git de money.’ 

“ ‘Well, I’ll try it,’ says de guy. ‘I t’ink de best way’d 
be to hipnytise him into t’inkin’ I’m an officer an’ have 
him pinched an’ den it’ll be a hull lot easier t’ git him to 
do wot I tell him.’ ‘Dat’s right,’ says I, ‘jest wake him 
up an’ tell him yer a copper an’ he’s liable to hand you 
de t’irty to let him alone.’ 

"Well, de guy goes over to de hobo an’ wakes him up 
an’ makes a few daffy moves wid his mitts in front o’ de 
hobo’s face an’ den cracks dis way: ‘Come wid me. I 

wanter speak wid you. I’m an officer an’ ’ Dat’s as 

fur as he got. As soon as he cracks ‘officer’ de hobo falls 
off de chair backwards an’ takes to de woods. He fell 
over near all de furniture in de joint makin’ his getaway 
an’ I near died laughin’. Y’ see, dey has de hobo over 
to de armory de odder day an’ gives him fifteen an’ costs 
but suspen’s de fine on conditions dat he’ll git out o’ town 
inside o’ twenty-four hours. 

“Well, the hipnytisum guy swells up after de hobo 
blows, an’ says: ‘You see how it works. I jest turn it 
into him too strong off de jump an’ den he buys annoder 
drink. 

“ ‘Say,’ he says, after a minute or two, ‘I ain’t very big 
er I ain’t very strong, but I t’ink I’ll go into de prize fight- 
in’ business. Y’ see I kin hipnytise de guy I’m flightin’ wid 
an’ git him in me power so’s I kin do wot I want to wid 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


51 


him an’ den I kin beat him t’ deat’.’ ‘Dat’s a hot one/ 
says I. ‘You’ll be de champion o’ de world sure if you 
kin do dat.’ 

"I goes down under de bar an’ gets an old set o’ gloves 
an’ says; ‘Wot’s de matter wid you an’ me fren’ Muggins 
puttin’ on de gloves fer a fren’ly go jest to see wot you kin 
do wid him?’ De guy says all right and dey puts dem on. 

“Muggins is kinder leery o’ de hipnytisum guy, but I 
tells him dat if de guy trows him into a trance I won’t 
let him beat him up none. Well, dey starts ofif, an’ de guy 
starts to make dem same kind o’ dafify moves wid his 
mitts dat he did wid de hobo. W’en Muggins seen dem 
he about says to hisself: ‘I’ll not take no chances wid dis 
guy, fer he swings fer him wid his right an’, on de square, 
I t’ought he killed him. Muggins an’ me works ah hour 
try in’ to bring him to an’ finally we gets little Jimmy, de 
cab-driver, an’ tells him to take de guy to de p’lice sta- 
tion an’ tell de coppers he found him layin’ on de street. 

“I hears to-day dat he come to out in de hospital an’ is 
gettin’ better but I don’t b’leve he t’inks so well o’ dat 
hipnytisum graft o’ his as he did before Muggins handed 
him dat one on de jaw.” 


52 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE “RUBBER-IN-THE-GLASS” HABIT. 



YOU ever notice dem guys dat’s got de 
‘rubber-in-de-glass’ habit?” inquired 
the barkeep of the seedy politician, not 
seeming to notice that he had rudely 
broken into a long dissertation by the 
latter gentleman as to who was most 
likely to get the committeeship from 
the ’steenth. 

‘‘Wot’s de rubber-in-de-glass habit?” 
“W’y, dem guys dat’s all de time 
rubber-neckin’ at derselves in de mir- 
ror. Dey’ll be talkin’ t’ you all de time, but dey won’t fer 
a minute take dere lamps off derselves in de lookin’ glass. 

“I t’ink it’s a habit, more or less, wid de most o’ dem, 
fer I know a lot o’ good fellers dat’s all de time rubberin’ 
at derselves dat ain’t stuck on der shape eider. But some 
o’ dem’s dere awful strong. 

“Dey was a couple o’ dem in here dis ev’nin’ dat was 
worse den any I’ve seen fer some time. One o’ dem is a 
little guy dat has jest come from de Cripple Creek, an’ 
he’s tellin’ me ’bout how t’ings ain’t wot dey has been 
cracked up t’be out dere an’ how der’s t’irty gamblers 
in de town t’ every white check an’ one t’ing an’ annoder 
an’ all de time he never takes his lamps off hisself in de 
glass a minute. Every little while he’d dig up one o’ dem 
little roun’ lookin’-glasses out of his kick so’s he could 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


53 


get a close peek at liisself. I finally asks him was he 
afraid dat one o’ his ears er somet’in’ would fall off if he 
didn’t watch dem an’ he was half an hour stallin’ ’round 
fer hisself an’ tellin’ me how it was. 

“But dere was annoder guy in here, ’long in de mornin’ 
sometime, dat cert’nly was a peach. He looks like a Bow- 
ery alderman an’ he’s a bit boozed, but at dat he can’t 

keep his lamps off de 
mirror. He’s tellin’ 
me ’bout bein’ de 
whole t’ing in New 
York an’ one t’ing an’ 
annoder, an’ is one o’ 
dem fellers.dat t’inks 
he’s de swelles’-look- 
in’ guy on de line 
w’en he gets a few un- 
der his belt. He’s 
tellin’ me ’bout havin’ 
got mixed up wid 
some bloke over on 
de wes’ side earlier in 
de ev’nin’ an’ ’bout 
how he finally puts de 
guy out. Well, ’bout 
dat time de beer runs 
out an’ I has to go 
down in de cellar to tap a fresh one. Der ain’t no one in 
de place but de hobo an’ me an’ de big guy, an’ I tells de 
hobo to lock de doors if anybody drops in dat looks like 
lie had a piece of money. 

“Well, w’en I comes up de back stairs I kinder does a 
sneak an’ takes a peek t’ see if de hobo ain’t back o’ de 
bar coppin’ a bottle o’ booze er somet’in’. I rubbers out 



ALDERMAN.” 


54 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


an’ sees de hobo sleepin’ over agin de wall. Anybody 
might ’a walked in de joint an’ took to de woods wid de 
cash register er anyt’ing else, an’ I was a bit sore. I was 
just goin’ to roust de hobo out de place w’en I gets a 
flash o’ de big guy. He’s standin’ in front o’ de mirror 
an’ is havin’ de hardes’ set-to wid his shadder dat ever y’ 
see in yer life. I t’ought at first de guy was daffy er’ 
somet’in’ but den I see dat he’s only stuck on his own 
sparrin’. He was trowin’ out his left an’ den rubberin’ in 
de glass t’ see if he done it right er not. Den he’d swing 
wid his right an’ uppercut wid his left an’ he was sweatin’ 
like he was in a bat’-house. He was dancin’ round an’ 
fightin’ at hisself in de glass an’ duckin’ an’ side-steppin’ 
jes’ like it was on de square aji’ it was all I could do t’ 
keep from tippin’ meself off be laffin’. I don’t know how 
many rounds he has before I gets de peek at him, but he 
swings ’miff punches to put out t’irty guys if dey was on 
de square. 

“Well, finally I takes a bar-towel dat I has wid me, 
rolls it up an’ t’rows it at de guy. De towel was wet an’ 
it was just de same as gettin’ hit wid a cannon-ball. I 
happens to cop him jes’ right an’ de sparrin’ match was 
all off. De guy stuck til.l daylight in de mornin’ tryin’ t’ 
square hisself an’ tellin’ me he was only takin’ a little ex- 
ercise on account o’ bein’ ’fraid of de apoplexy. It’s bully 
listenin’ to dem guys tryin’ to tell you how it is after 
you’ve ketched dem wid de goods on dem, ain’t it?” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


55 


THE BARKEEP AS A POLITICIAN, 

TIME last night I was de whole t’ing!” 
announced the barkeep the other night 
as he came into the place with his street 
clothes on. “Oh, I was rummy, I guess!” 
And then he waved the talent up to the 
bar, back of which his boss was offi- 
ciating. “Yes,^ you kinder look like 
somebody’d been swellin’ you up,”ven- 
tured the gentleman commonly known 
to his friends as “the pup.” “Where 
was you 

“Oh, dat’s all right. I was to a joint youse guys could- 
n’t break into wid a bushel o’ screws an’ a jimmy t’irty- 
foot long.” 

“Oh, o’ course! You come ’round lookin’ wise an’ 
stallin’ fer yerself ’bout bein’ in some swell push. You 
’bout broke into de booby-hatch fer somet’in’ you done! 
But wot are you layin’ off fer, anyhow? Blowed yer 
job?” 

“Not on yer life. Dere’s no chance o’ me bein’ blowed. 
Look who I am !” 

“I don’t see no medals on you,” said the pup. 

“Well, I don’t come to a flash wid dem — excep’ wid de 
right people. But I’m just takin’ a lay-off on ’count o’ 
dis bum mitt. I got it in a argyment I has wid a big guy 
in here night before last. 

“Oh, cert’nly, it’d have ter be a big guy. You never 





56 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


did have no fight vvid a little guy, did you? But how did 
you get it — swing fer de guy an’ hit de stove?” 

‘‘You’ll be kiddin’ somebody ’round here till you git a 
wallop in de jaw,” said the barkeep, as he turned to the 
pup, in a manner that caused the latter to back away a 
foot or two. ‘‘I got dis one lickin’ a guy, but dere's no use 
tellin’ you blokes ’bout somet’in’ you didn’t see. Chances 

• are you’d be tellin’ 
me I was smokin’ 
afore I was troo.” 

“Well, I guess we’ll 
have to stan’ fer it, 
w’en we didn’t see it 
come off,” rejoined 
the pup. “But, say, 
are you goin’ t’ let us 
choke t’deat’? You’re 
de slowest guy fer a 
swell bartender I ever 
did see.” 

The barkeep made a 
kick at the pup’s shins 
and then ordered a 
drink. 

“Well, I’ll tell youse 
guys ’bout w’ere I 
was las’ night if you’ll quit yer kiddin’. Y’ see, dey’s a guy 
I knows dat’s de whole t’ing in his ward out sout’ an’ he 
comes in here an’ invites me out to a p’litical meetin’ his 
club was goin’ to have t’ kinder make a beef agin’ dem 
reform guys dat’s tryin’ to frame up t’ings so dey kin 
t’row down de city hall push. Well, on ’count o’ goin’ 
to take a lay-off on ’count o’ de bum mitt anyhow T goes 
out wid him an’ I’m sittin’ still an’ behavin’ meself listenin’ 



POOR SUIT.” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


57 


t’ de politicians makin’ der spiel w’en me fren’ don’t do 
nottin’ only get up an’ call on me for a speech. He in- 
terdooces me dis way : 

“ ‘Here’s a gen’lman,’ he says, ‘dat ain’t no politician, 
but he kin tell youse ’bout how tough t’ings is wid de boys 
’round town now an’ how much tougher dey’ll be if dey 
do any more reformin’ in dis town.’ I was scared t’ deat’, 
fer I never made no speech before in me life ’cept de time 
I presents a bum super to a lady dat win it up to de 
Pleasure Club’s ball fer bein’ de champion waltzer er some- 
tin’. But der was no chance t’ stall out of it, so I gets up 
an’ makes a swell four-flush an’, on de square, w’en I gets 
started it was soft enough. After I get troo tellin’ dem 
how rummy t’ings was since de Civic Federation an’ one 
t’ing an’ annoder has got after ev’rybody I makes me bow 
an’ sets down. Dey hollers an’ yells like a bunch o’ In- 
dians, an’ I finally gets next dat some o’ dem’s kinder 
givin’ me de laugh on ’count o’ me talk not bein’ so swell 
as some o’ dem silk stockin’s use er somet’in’, an’ 1 start t’ 
get sore. I come near gettin’ down off de platform an’ 
takin’ a punch at one long-haired guy in de front dat was 
laughin’ at me, but me fren’ flags me an’ gets up an’ 
moves a vote o’ t’anks fer me speech, w'ich starts dem 
hollerin’ again. Well, anyhow, dey tells me it was de 
swellest spiel ever dey heard an’ dey was stuck t’ have me 
join out wid dem an’ be a politician. I don’t want no 
part o’ de graft, douglv If a guy was on de inside like 
some o’ dem it’d be all right, but I see too many o’ dem 
politicians round here broke t’ t’ink well o’ de game.” 

“I ’spose yer all swelled up now. Chances are you’ll 
be tryin’ t’.run fer alderman er somet’in’ 'fore long,” said 
the pup. “But w’ere did you get dem new togs? An’ dat’s 
as hot a skin as ever I see in me life!” 

“Me shirt? W’y, you stiff, dem striped boys is de right 




58 THE BARKEEP STORIES. 

t’ing now. You can’t see nottin’ but de stripes an’ de 
checks in de windys, can yer? Me fren’ de politician 
gimme a order fer de hull outfit an’ de club says dey’re 
goin’ t’ have me spiel wrote out an’ framed up on de wall. 
But wot d’ye t’ink o’ dem clo’se? I guess dat’s a poor 
suit, hey? I guess I’m ’bout as fur ahead o’ de p’litical 
game as I’ll ever be an’ I’m goin’ t’ let it go at dat. Give 
us annoder drink.” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


59 


THE PUP TELLS OF A TEXAS TRIP. 

I EVER tellin’ you ’bout de time I was 
out graftin’?” asked the pup of the bar- 
keep the other morning, as they sat 
down beside the stove to ponder on 
the woeful dullness of all things sport- 
ive and wish the winter was over. 

“You was graftin’? Booze-graftin’?” 
“Naw — not booze graftin’. Dis was 
one time I was joined out wid a nut- 
spieler an’ we was hop-skotchin’ t’roo 
Texas. An’ I’ll tell you one t’ing afore 
I s'tart — dem kind o’ grafters kin have der graft. It’s a 
little too rough fer me — too many chances o’ breakin’ into 
jail. I was scared out o’ ten years’ growth at de blow-off 
o’ de trip de time I was out.” 

“W’at was it?” 

“Well, it’s about four years ago. I’m on me way back 
from one o’ dem New Orleans fights, an’ not bein’ hump- 
backed from de coin I was carryin’ I ain’t stuck to pay no 
railroad fare, but I’m goin’ ’long de best I kin, shortin’ 
de conductors an’ one t’ing annoder. I gets to Shreve- 
port one mornin’ an’ meets a guy I knows be de name o’ 
Bones at de railroad station. 

“ ‘W’ere you goin’?’ says Bones.' T t’ink I’ll go to 
Chicago,’ says I. ‘Wot’s de use o’ goin’ up dere now?’ 



60 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


says Bones; ‘join out wid me an’ we’ll do a little hop- 
scotchin’ t’roo de country an’ get hold o’ some money.’ 

“Well, we finds we has seventy case between de two of 
us an’ frames it up t’ start out dat afternoon. Well, we 



go ’long all right fer ’bout five weeks an’ be dat time we 
has t’ree hundred an’ sixty in de bank roll. We win a 

hull lot more den dat, 
y’ know, but de coin 
we was slingin’ t’ de 
livery stable guys an’ 
de hotels an’ one t’ing 
annoder was puttin’ 
us back all de time. 

“Well,dis day we’re 
at a little town dat’s 
’bout forty mile from 
de railroad. We 
drives over wid a pair 
o’ yaller bronchos 
hitched to one o’ dem 
buckboards, an’ I’ll bet 
I blowed de rig t’irty 
times on de way over. 
One o’ dem bronchos 
was a peach. He was 
stuck to run away all 
de time, but he’d 

•«HE TELLS US WE’RE PINCHED.” 

goin’ down a hill, w’en dey was no chance t’ stop him. 
An’ every time he see one o’ dem big holes in de groun’ 
dey got down dere he tries de best he knowed how t’ jump 
into it. Every time I sees him start for anyt’ing I blows 
de rig an’ leaves Bones t’ go t’roo wid de play. 

“We finally gets into dis town an’ we snake de main bull 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


61 


o’ de town an’ start t’ play de shells. After we goes 
along awhile we sees a couple o’ guys ridin’ in over de 
hill. Dey comes up an’ takes a pipe at us an’ den gets 
offen der horses. One guy was a real old guy wid w’iskers 
t’ree foot long and a couple o’ cannons stuck in his belt 
dat made me t’ink o’ home an’ mudder ev’ry time I took 
a peek at dem. He pulls his w’iskers t’ one side an’ gives 
us a flash of a star he has pinned onto de front o’ his 
shirt. It was cut out o’ de bottom o’ one o’ dem big 
oyster cans an’ he has scratched ‘sheriff’ on it wid a nail. 
De odder guy w'as wearin’ his star on his necktie. 
He was de marshal or. somet’in’. Dey tells us 
we’re pinched an’ dey drags us up t’ de booby 
hatch after friskin’ us an’ coppin’ de t’ree-sixty. I got 
a scar on me head yet w’ere de old guy hit me wid his 
cannon fer askin’ him w’y didn’t he pin his star onto his 
w’iskers w’ere people could see it. 

“De wind-up was, de sheriff an’ de marshal an’ de main 
bull cuts up de t’ree-sixty between dem an’ tells us t’ git 
out o’ dat part o’ de country quick as we kin er dey’d put 
us on de county farm for de balance of our life 

“You’d ought t’ seen me doin’ a hot foot fer de rig w’en 
dey turned us loose. I didn’t care whedder de bloomin’ 
broncho run away er not on de back trip. It’s near day- 
light w’en we gets t’ de town we starts from an’ ’bout a 
mile out o’ de town we jumps out o’ de rig an’ starts de 
bronchos on de run fer home. We cops de head end o’ 
de nex’ rattler up de road an’ I never quit goin’ till I got 
here. 

“Bones wants me to stick at Texarkana till he kin 
spring a new bank-roll, but I passed de game up. Dem 
guys kin have der hop-skotchin’ ’round de country. 
W’enever I see one o’ dem Texas hats coinin’ down de 
street I git de shivers. Dis is purty tough here, but it’s 
good enough fer me.” 


62 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


A FEW “SMOKE-UP” STORIES. 


8 ®* 


JCID,” said the barkeep, as a 
^ with a sportive appearance 


young man 
and a sug- 


gestion of more prosperous days in the 
past entered the place and approached 
the bar. “How is t’ings?” 

“Very rummy,” said the “kid,” as he 
approached the stove in an endeavor to 
absorb a little warmth. “Dis cold wed- 
der’s enough to give a broken guy de 
delirium tremens. Say, dis reminds me 
o’ one night out in Leadville w’en t'ings 
was good an’ de wedder was so cold dat a guy dat’s dealin’ 
de bank ten foot from a red-hot stove has to wear buck- 
skin gloves an’ froze one o’ his mitts at dat. Well, dat 
night I ” 

“Now, nix, kid! Y’ might as well chop dat one right 
dere, fer I tell yer I won’t stand fer no more o’ dem pipe 
stories. I’m daffy now from listenin’ to a bunch o’ broken 
gamblers dat’s been in here fer de last two hours tellin’ 
dem to each odder. I don’t know where dey come from 
but dey talked like dey had jest broke out of a hop joint — 
aldough I’m a guy dat don’t accuse nobody o’ nottin’ like 
dat till I ketches dem wid de goods on dem, see? One o’ 
dem tells ’bout one time he’s in Saint Loois an’ ain’t eat 
fer t’ree days. He’s goin’ along de street w’en he picks 
up a meal ticket wid ’bout t’ree bucks wort’ o’ eatin’ on 
it in a swell eatin’ joint. He goes to de place and likes to 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


63 


founder hisself eatin’ ev’ryt’ing in de joint from soup to 
nuts, an’ den tells de prop dat he’s forced to blow de town 
on de nex’ rattler an’ wants his coin back. He has eat 
’bout a case an’ a half an’ de eatin’-house guy squares it 
up by slingin’ him a single. 

“He cops de single an’ goes up to play bank 
wid it. Not wantin’ to make no daffy plunge 
he bets a half a case an’ blows. Den he bets 
two bits an’ blov/s. Den he puts de odder two 

bits on somet’in’ an’ 
gets a split fer it. Dey 
puts it on de high 
card an’ it’s his on de 
turn. De card dat 
shows in de top o’ de 
box is de seven o’ 
spades, w’ich, I been 
told, is supposed by 
dem hop fiends to be 
de luckiest card in de 
deck fer de chink to 
fetch der hop in on. 

Well, w’en dis guy 
sees de lucky card he 
jest leaves dat twcbit ^ , 

piece lay on de high card an it win. Den he coppers it 
an’ it win again an’ he left it lay an never lose a bet all 
t’roo de deal. If dat guy don’t tell me dat I don t want to 
see no more summer wedder. It made me head ache w en 
he tells how much he draws out, to t ink o how dey let 
dem guys run round loose 

“But I’ll have to tell you one dat a little old guy dat 
was in de push tells. Dis one’s a winner if ever dey was 
one. He says dat ’bout ten years ago he’s down town one 



64 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


clay well he meets a fren’ o’ his who’s jest after buy in’ a 
$90 benny. His fren’ says, ‘How much money you got?’ 

‘ ’Bout a $20 note,’ says cie guy. ‘Dat’s jest ’bout wot I 
got,’ says his fren’; ‘let’s go an’ play de bank.’ So up dey 
goes an’ dey blows de forty. De odder guy soaks his 
benny to de dealer fer fifteen an’ dey blows dat. Den he 
soaks a super he has on an’ dey blows dat. Den de two 
o’ dem starts to leave de joint, w’en dis guy sees a white 
check under de roulette wheel. He picks it up an’ t’rows 
it on de 17 an’ it comes 17. Dey takes de t’ree-sixty an’ 
starts back to play de bank. Well, accordin’ to dis guy 
dey couldn’t lose a bet. Dey was out o’ soak in a little 
while an’ w’en dey finally screws dey cuts up $3,740. 

“Dis little guy gets touched fer his part on a street car 
after he splits out from his fren’, an’ don’t get next dat 
it’s off till he gets way over on de nort’ side. Den he 
frisks hisself and finds dat he’s only t’irty cents strong. 
He gets off’n de car an’ goes to a place where dere dealin’ 
craps and puts de two-bit piece on de line an’ makes t’ree 
passes fer it. Den he goes back down town wid de two- 
case an’ starts to play de bank again. 

“Well, anyhow, to cut it short, he tells us dat it took 
him two years over across de water to let loose o’ w’at he 
drawed out de last time. An’ a fren’ o’ his onct told me 
dat he went over on a cattle ship, t’inkin’ he’d make a hit 
in Paris, an’ come near not gettin’ back. I couldn't help 
sayin’ ‘smoke up!’ w’en de guy gets t’roo wid his talc an’ 
dey gets insulted an’ goes out o’ de place. Oh, dem guys 
is bully! But dey’ll get a guy nutty hisself if he mixes 
up wid dem much. Dat hop, er w’atever it is makes dem 
tell dem kind o’ tales, goes fer somebody else. I’m daffy 
enough now tryin’ t’ run a peaceable place.” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


05 


THE BARKEEP DISCUSSES THE X RAYS. 


D’YE t’ink o’ dis new way cley got fer 
photygraphin’?” inquired the pup a»he 
took his feet off the stove and turned 
round to the light so that he. could get 
a better look at the paper. 

“Wot’s dat?” asked the barkeep as 
he lazily tossed away the stump of a 
cigar. 

“W’y, dey got a way now that dey 
kin photygraph right t’roo a guy an’ 
see wot’s inside of him.” 

“Dat’s right. If a guy’s shot dey puts him in front o’ 
de photygraphin’ machine an’ gets a picter o’ where de 
bullet is, so’s dey kin dig it out widout no stallin’ ’round 
an’ dubbin’ wid de cards. Dey got it so’s you kin see t’roo 
a t’ree-inch plank er a brick wall er anyt’ing.” 

“Wot’re y’ doin’ — kiddin’ me?” said the barkeep. 

“Naw! It’s on de square wot he’s tellin’ you,” broke in 
the seedy politician; “w’y, dey dfowns a rat de odder day 
’an’ den shoots dis noo ’lectric light into it an’ fetches it 
back to life. An’ I see dis mornin’ dat all dey got to do is 
t’ t’row dis light into a guy an’ it’ll cure anyt’ing from a 
bum gam to de consumption, an’ dey kin ” 

“Where you guys been — to^a hop joint?” asked the 
barkeep, as he regarded them suspiciously. “Wot d’ y’ 



”Wot?” 


66 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


t’ink o’ dem guys?” he said, as the copper on the beat 
came in, “tryin’ to tell me dey’s a new fake invented w’ere 
y’ kin see t’roo a guy!” 

“Phwat is it?” asked the copper as he reached for the 
bottle. 

“ ’Lectricity.” 

“Well, ni tell yez. A felly has t’ pay^ttintion t’near 
anyt’ing dthey tells him nowadays about dthis electhris- 
ity. Oi been lookin’ fer thim t’ be runnin’ dthe fire- 

thrucks an’ dthe pa- 
throl wagons wid it 
any toime.” 

“Well, I’ll not stand 
fer it!” declared the 
barkeep. “Dey got to 
show me! W’at d’ye 
t’ink o’ dat — take a 
picter o’ de inside of 
a guy! I wanter see 
dem deliver de goods 
afore I’ll stand fer it!” 

“C e r t a i n 1 y,” 
responded the pup. 
“You’re wan o’ dem 
wise ^guys dat you 
can’t tell nottin’ to! W’y, dey got a picter here in de 
paper of a photygraph dey took of a guy’s mitt showin’ 
w’ere he has a bum knuckle. It must be on de square, 
fer all dem long-haired guys in de colleges is tryin’ it.” 

“Who d’you say de guy was dat found dis out?” in- 
quired the barkeep. 

“Some Dutchman.” 

“Dat settles it wid me. It’s all off now wid me till dey 

show me somet’in’, Der never was nottin’ invented by 



“YOU COULD SEE W’ICH KICK HIS 
COIN WAS IN.” 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


67 


a Dutchman yet dat was any ’count — barrin’ de beer. If 
it wasn’t fer makin’ dat wot good would a Dutchman be, 
anyhow? 

“But, say — tell me somet’in’. Wot’s de matter wid you 
or anybody else gettin’ wan o’ dem little photygraphin’ 
fakes dat y’ see guys runnin’ ’round in de parks wid an’ 
takin’ one o’ dem see-t’roo-you pictures of any guy dat 
you happens to butt into dat looks like he has de ready 
money-? 

“You could take de picter an’ den stall off in de corner 
an’ see whedder you was on a lobster or not, er w^ich 
kick he has his coin in, an’ save yerself a hull lot o’ trouble. 
An’ if some o’ dem smart guys could fake up a little pic- 
ter-takin’ outfit, de days ob de big mitt would be past an’ 
gone, as de spieler over in de museum says. An’ look 
how soft it’d be fer de saloonkeepers! All dey’d have 
ter do ’d be t’ take a snap-shot o’ de bartender w’en he 
comes t’ work an’ w’en he goes off again t’ see whedder 
he was in de habit o’ gettin’ his mitts tangled up in de 
cash register or not. Now, I won’t stand fer it. Dem 
guys ’ll have to show me. I’m from Missouri!” 


68 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


MUGGINS RETURNS FROM TEXAS. 

YOUSE guys see me fren’ Muggins 
since he come back?” inquired the bar- 
keep the other morning of the aggre- 
gation of talent gathered around the 
stove. 

“Naw. W’en did he blow in?" asked 
the hobo. 

“Las’ night. An’ you’d ought t’ see 
him! All dressed up wid de reg’lar- 
noo suit an’ de paten’ ledders! On de 
square, I ain’t kiddin’. Got plenty o’ 
de coin, too. It’s a wonder some o’ youse guys wouldn’t 
blow out o’ town once in a while an’ see if you couldn’t 
git hold o’ somet’in’ ’stead o’ layin’ ’round here an’ tellin’ 
some odder lobster ’bout de chunks you used to tear off 
w’en de World’s Fair was here.” 

No attention whatever was paid to this remark by the 
gentlemen addressed. 

“W’ere was he?” asked the seedy politician. 

“Oh, no place, only down t’ El Paso!” responded the 
barkeep. “I might ’a knowed he was down dere, anyhow, 
w’en he didn’t show up ’round here. He’d ’a had t’ be 
w’ere dem fights was goin’ t’ be if he had t’ walk de hull 
way. Well, he comes in here last night an’ de first t’ing 
de pup does is ask him was he out in de bandhouse and 
I has t’ git out from behind de bar t’ keep Muggins from 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


69 


sluggin’ him. Muggins gets t’ tellin’ us ’bout de trip. 
He gets t’ El Paso ’bout a week ago an’ blows de train 
he was on ’bout a mile out o’ de town, on ’count o’ bein’ 
’fraid dey might be pinchin’ de guys dat wasn’t coinin’ 
into town in Pullmans. Muggins starts t’ walk into de 
town an’ don’t go fur till he meets one o’ dem long-haired 
Texas guys ridin’ over de prairie on a little old mule. 
Dis guy has come from ’way up in de mountains t’ see 

de right, an’ accordin’ 
t’ wot Muggins says 
he was as good a 
lookin’ a mark as 
ever a guy run across 
in his life. 

“De guy sees Mug- 
gins ain’t no Texas 
guy an’ he pulls up 
his pony an’ starts 
askin’ him ’bout de 
fight. ‘Reckon you 
all know some o’ dem 
fighters,’ says de guy. 
‘Know dem?’ says 
Muggins, ‘w’y, sure I 
do! Don’t you know 
me? Me name’s Peter 
Maher!’ 

“ ‘De doose you say!’ says de guy, an’ he jumps off his 
horse. Muggins come near screwin’, fer he t’ought de 
guy was ’bout goin’ t’ cut loose at him wid a cannon. But 
de guy only t’rows de glad hand at him an’ tells him how 
much dey’d been tellin’ him ’bout his rightin’ abilities up 
de country. 

“‘Yes,’ says Muggins. ‘Pm purty well known. Pm 



“DE GUY GETS A FLASH O’ HIM.” 


70 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


out (lis mornin’ doin’ a bit o’ trainin’ fer me fight. Say, 
lemme take one o’ dein bags o’ gold money you got dere. 
I want t’ play de bank a little down in de town an’ I come 
away from me trainin’ quarters widout no coin. I'll hand 
it to you to-morrow ’long wid a ticket fer de fight.’ 
‘Cert’nly,’ says de guy, an’ den Muggins tells him he’s 
goin’ t’ do a little sprint acrost de prairie fer exercise an’ 
bids de guy good day, makin’ a date wid him downtown 
fer de nex’ day. 

“Muggins don’t do nothin’ only cop de first rattler out 
o’ town an’ he tells me dat he had de heart disease till he 
got clean up to Saint Loois fer fear dem Texas guys 
would git him. He wouldn’t ’a stayed down dere if all 
de champeens ever dey was in de world was goin’ t’ fight 
an’ he had a box seat fer de hull show. He must a’ got 
off quite a chunk, fer he fixes hisself all up in Saint Loois 
an’ lands here wid plenty o’ coin at dat. 

“I fergot t’ tell you ’bout de dog Muggins fetches back 
wid him. He gets it down de road somew’eres an’ he says 
it’s a swell — a Roosian hound dog. It may be all right, 
but it’s as tough a lookin’ one as ever I see. Well, de 
bloomin’ dog near scares a guy into de tremens afore 
de night was over. Right after IMuggins gits t’roo tellin’ 
us ’bout de trip he has in comes a guy wid a fox tarrier 
on de end of a chain. Dis guy is boozed plenty an’ is 
near snaky anyhow. He ’bout stole de dog somewheres 
but dat don’t make no difference. Well, de pup stalls 
’roun de guy, tellin’ him wot a swell dog he has an’ one 
t’ing an’ annoder, ’till de first t’ing I knows he has de 
tarrier off de chain an’ Muggins gets him an’ screws wid 
him. De pup keeps stallin’ ’round wid de chain an de 
guy t’inks he still has his dog. He’s near too boozed to 
rubber ’round anyhow. 

“Well, back comes Muggins after plantin’ de tarrier 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


' 71 


an’ he goes an’ gets de hound dog he fetched wid him an’ 
between him an’ de pup he ties it on de guy’s chain. 

“In a minute er two de guy rubbers ’round an’ gets 
a flash o’ dat hound dog. He drops de chain an’ looks at 
it a minute an’ den lets one yell out o’ him an’ starts t’ 
climb over de bar. W’y, I has t’ strong-arm de guy an’ 
t’row him dqwn on de floor an’ make Muggins fetch back 
de terrier afore he'd lay quiet. He t’ought he had^ de 
snakes, sure! 

“He done an awfuMiot-foot out w’en we give him back 
his dog an’ it’s t’ree t’ousand t’ one he’ll never come in 
here no more. Muggins an’ dat pup ’ll have me on de 
road t’ Kankakee ’fore long if de two o’ dem stays in 
town. I t’ink I’ll bar one er bot’ o’ dem out o’ de joint.” 





72 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE BARKEEP GOES TO A DANCE. 

— COPPER on the beat looked long and 
steadily at the barkeep. 

“Well, thim’s as pnrty a pair as iver 
Oi see!” 

“Wot’s dat? Wot’re y’ talkin’ ’bout?” 
“Oi’m talkin’ about thim oyes yez 
hev !’’ 

“Oh, me lamps! Well, wot d’ye t'ink 
o’ dat!” said the barkeep savagely, as 
he turned and surveyed himself in the 
mirror. “I t’ought I was painted up purty good! An’ I 
give dat actor guy a four-bit piece fer de job, too! Pll 
git square wid dat bloke — but say, on de level, y’ couldn’t 
make them very easy, could yer?” 

“Oh, no; but it’s ha-ard t’ fule an ould-timer like me- 
self, Mike. But phwere th’ divil did yez recave thim? 
It’s not often Oi hear av yez losin’ a shcrap,” 

“I didn’t lose no scrap. I win one — an’ win it plenty, 
too. But say, if you’ll promise not to tip it off I’ll tell y’ 
’bout it. 

“Y’ see, de Oakleaf Pleasure club give der mont’ly ball 
las’ Saturday night over on de west side, an’ as de head 
guy in de club ’s me pal o’ course I has to be dere. Dis 
is de first dance I was to in two or t’ree years. I used ter 
take dem all in an’ I used ter t’ink I wuz de whole t’ing 
when I was pivotin’ round, but I kinder soured on de 
game lately. 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


73 


“Well, anyhow, I gets me lady fren’ an’ we starts over 
’bout lo o’clock. Dey was a big crowd in de hall an’ 
everyt’ing was goin’ along smood enough an’ I was havin’ 
a purty good time drinkin’ a few beers an’ watchin’ de 
gang enjoy derselves, w’en finally, ’bout 2 o’clock I guess 
it was, dey calls a quadrille. Dey gets every set made up 
’ceptin’ one and dey was only shy wan couple. Well, me 

fren’ comes t’ me an’ 
wants me t’ dance. I 
balks for awhile, but fin- 
ally w’en I sees dat I’m 
delayin’ de game I grabs 
a little girl I knows from 
downtown an’ says t’ me- 
self dat I’ll take a chanct 
anyhow, a 1 d o u g h I 
knowed I’d be rummy. 

“Dey was a big Dutch- 
man in de set dat weighed 
about tree hundred 
poun’s. He was near full 
o’ de beer an’ was gettin’ 
kinder gabby. I don’t 
know how he ever broke 
into dat Irish dance, but 
dere he was. Dey v/as a little dood in de set, too, wid 
hair like dem football players an’ parted in de middle. He 
has a roil o’ bills dat ’ud choke a dog an’ I was startin’ 
t’ figger how t’ git t’ him meself. De girl he has wid him 
weighed tree times as much as himself an’ de girl de big 
Dutchman has wasn’t over four foot high. 

“Well, de dance starts an’ everyt’ing goes along all right 
fer awhile an’ I was doin’ purty well meself. W’en de 



“I T’OUGHT I WAS PAINTED UP 
PURTY GOOD.” 



74 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


Dutchman ’ud swing de big girl he’d swing her good 
an’ plenty an’ dat’s just how de trouble started. Y’see de^ 
Dutchman was kinder groggy an’ he makes a mistake one 
time an’ grabs de little girl an’ starts t’ swing her de same 
way he done de big one. 

“On de square, he trim her t’irty feet! An’ den der was 
a hull lot o’ trouble. De girl’s brudder was in de nex’ 
set an’ o’ course he t’inks de Dutchman trim her down 
a-purpose. He wallops him in de mout’ an’ I, like a 
sucker, jumps in t’ split ’em out.^ 

“Some guy in de push t’inks I’m wid de Dutchman 
an’ wallops me. Den o’ course it was all off. I couldn’t 
let him get away wid de punch, an’ in about a secon’ I’m 
in a mix-up with him an t’irty of his fren’s. Well, finally 
me pal, dat’s de main bloke in de dancin’ club, gets t’ 
where I’m tangled up an’ stops de fight. 

“Everyt’ing was righted up an we all winds up in de 
bar de best o’ fren’s, even if me lamps was closed up. But 
I’ll bet I closed up ten fer each o’ mine. I don’t know 
w’at dey did do wid de Dutchman, but I’ll bet he’s in de 
morgue if he got de game J did. An’ y’ kin go broke on 
one t’ing, dat’s de last dance dat dey’ll con dis guy into 
goin’ to. I kin get mixed up in enough trouble roun’ dis 
joint widout goin’ out t’ de wes’ side lookin’ fer it. 

“But, say,” he said, as the copper took the bottle and 
the glass, “yer not goin’ t’ trow me down an’ tip it off t’ 
de gang? All right — here’s good luck!” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


75 


HE WAS NO VAGRANT. 


HONOR entered the court-room with 
the proud and haughty mien becom- 
ing to a man who had signed nineteen 
bail bonds the night before at $i a 
throw, and expected to sign a few 
more before the day was over, hung 
up his hat and coat, threw his um- 
brella into the corner, planked him- 
self down in the chair of justice and 
scowled at everybo4y in sight. 

The mighty bailiff grabbed his 
railing of the dock a few times and in- 
formed the cjuaking offenders and others in waiting that 
“Coort is now in sission!” 

A healthy-looking “copper” in citizens’ clothes emerged 
from the “bull-pen,” dragging with him a smooth-shaven 
young man with a pink-striped shirt, and the wheels of 
justice commenced to grind in earnest. 

On the sheet the young man with the striped shirt was 
charged with “Viol. Sec. 1 598.” Interpreted, this means 
that he was accused by the police of being a vagrant. 

“Well, what do you^know about this man?” said his 
honor, as he looked over his spectacles at the “copper.” 

“Yer ’onner, dthis young felly don’t do nawthin’ only 
hang ’round saloons and he ain’t no good. I never seen 



76 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


him ’round wit’ nobody only grafters an’ I don’t think he 
ever worked a day in his life.” 

“Was he ever arrested before?” 

“I dunno, yer ’onner.” 

“What have you got to say, young man?” asked the 
court. 

“If he says I ain’t workin’, yer ’onner, he’s tellin’ wot 
ain’t de trut’. I’m workin’ ev’ry day an’ dat’s wot I tole 
him w’en he come an’ flashed de paper to me.” 

“What paper?” 

“W’y de paper he had 
t’ pinch me wit’,” replied 
the young man, evidently 
amazed at the ignorance 
of the justice. 

“Oh, the warrant!” 
“Sure!” 

“Well, where are you 
working? Got anybody 
here to testify" for you?” 

“No, but I got dis,” 
and the young man drew 
forth from an inner 
pocket a soiled and 
greasy paper which he 
carefully unfolded and handed to the justice. It read: 
^‘This is to certify that the bearer, Mr. , is au- 
thorized to act as solicitor for me. Signed) , 

Real Estate, Englewood, 111.” 

The court put down the paper and scrutinized the 
young man thoroughly. 

“So you’re in the real estate business, eh?” 

“Yessir!” 



“I NEVER BE WIT’ ANY O’ 
DEM GUNS AT ALL.” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


77 


“But this letter is three months old. Are you still work- 
ing?” 

“Sure! I been workin’ fer dis guy more’n free mont’s.” 

“Have you engineered any deals yet?” 

“Wot?” 

“I say, have you engineered any deals yet?” 

“I ain’t no engineer. I’m in de real-’state business.” 

“Yes, so you’ve said. I mean, have you made any 
sales of real estate so far for this man you’re working 
for?” 

“Wot’s dat? Oh — sure!. I steered free or four guys 
agin him already dat was stuck to buy a house an’ lot.” 

“Three or four ‘guys,’ eh? Been working three months. 
I suppose you’re working on commission?” 

“Naw — I tell yer I’m workin’ for dis real-estate guy.’’ 

“That’s all right. I mean, do you draw a regular sal- 
ary?” 

“Oh, you mean wot does de guy pay me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, ev’y time a mark dat I steers in buys one o’ dem 
vacant lots out dere de guy I’m workin’ fer slings me a 
piece o’ money, see? It’s all owin’ to how much de mark 
lets loose of.” 

“Do your duties keep you pretty busy?” 

“I don’t put in no reg’lar hours, but I’m all de time 
rubberin’ an’ keepin’ me lamps open.” 

“What about this charge the officers make. That you’re 
always in company with thieves?” 

“No, sir! Dafs a lie! I never be wit’ any o’ dem guns 
at all!” 

“Them what?” 

“Dem guns! Dem grafters de copper was tellin’ you 
’bout.” 

“Oh, I see! Your language is, to say the least, highly 


‘78 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


interesting, but I suppose it helps you to sell real estate. 
Were you ever arrested before?” 

“No, sir!” This with much vehemence. 

“Well, young man, I’ll just fine you $io and suspend 
the fine. Next time I see you here you’ll have to have 
your boss along to tell me you’re working or you’ll go to 
the bridewell. That letter game may go the first time, 
but that’s all. And you keep away from those saloons or 
you’re liable to be here to-morrow morning.” 

“Dat’ll be all right, judge.” And the “real-estate so- 
licitor” carefully folded up his letter, grinned triumphantly 
at the copper and went outside and lit a cigarette. 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


79 


THE BARKEEP GETS THE BUNCO AGAIN. 


“WAS 



. TELLIN’ yoiise guys about bein’ agin 
de green goods de odder night?” asked 
the barkeep. 

“Agin de green goods?” repeated one 
of the regular members. “WotVe you 
doin’ — kiddin’ somebody?” 

“Naw; dis ain’t no kid; it’s on de 
square. If I don't stand fer as purty 
a bit o’ de bunk as ever was framed 
up I hope de coppers ’ll close de joint 
up at 12 o’clock de balance o’ de sum- 
mer. It ain’t exac’ly de green goods, y’understan’, but it’s 
de same t’ing. Y’see, dere’s a swell-lookin’ guy comes in 
de joint de odder night w’en it’s rainin’ wid a suit-box all 
tied up wid de monoker of a swell tailor on de outside. 
He ain’t got no mush an’ it’s jest startin’ t’ rain good. He 
comes«up to de bar an’ cracks like dis: ‘Say, pal. I’m 
caught in de rain t’ree blocks away from me car an’ der 
ain’t a cab in sight. Would you be kind enough’ — dat’s 
a hot one, ain’t it? ‘Would you be kind enough!’ Dat’d 
come near landin’ anybody! — ‘Would you be kind 
enough,’ de guy says, t’ len’ me an umbrelly till I kin, go 
over to de office an’ get one? It was too late fer de tailor . 
to sen’ me noo suit o’ clo’se home t’-day, so I’m just drag- 
gin’ it meself, on account o’ havin’ to go ’way to-morrow, 
an’ I wish you’d keep it here while I go git me umbrelly/ 


80 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


“ ‘Sure!’ I says, an' I don’t do nottin’ only reach under 
de back bar an’ drag out de swell silk mush I cop on a 
rattler w’en I was goin’ out sout’ one night las’ winter, an’ 
hand it to de guy. If dat was as fur as I went I wouldn’t 
be sore, but after I hand him de mush, I go back again 
an’ drag out dat swell rain coat dat me fren’ Muggins 
buys me w’en he’s here from New York an’ hand him dat. 

“Wot d’you t’ink o’ dat? Wot’s dat? Did de guy come 

back? Dere was as much 
chance o’ him coinin’ 
back as der is of a guy 
dat’s win a little change 
spiellin’ de nuts handin’ de 
sucker back his coin. De 
clo’se? Dey was clo’se 
if people was wearin’ noos- 
papers. Oh, dat guy didn’t 
do nottin’ only deal out 
a nice little piece o’ de 
bunk an’ hand it to me on 
a silver platter! An’ I go 
to it like a duck to de wa- 
ter. I ben gettin’ it so 
many ways here lately dat 
I’m bio wed if I don’t t’ink 
people is framin’ up fer me. 

“Dat was a swell night round here, dat night I give de 
guy me coat an’ me mush. He ain’t blowed more’n ten 
minutes an’ I’m just failin’ to it dat I’m up in de air w’en 
in drops two Turks from out around de stock yards. One 
is a big raw-boned guy dat looked like he oughter lick 
a box-car full o’ prize-fighters an’ de odder is a little ban- 
dy-legged Turk dat looked like he’d a been willin’ to give 
one o’ his gams if he was t’ree inches taller. 



“DE SWELL LOOKIN’ GUY.” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


81 


“De two o’ dem is stiff an’, o’ course, dey was in an 
argument. First it was w’ich wan had stole de most 
steers in his time, an’ finally it gets to de silver question. 
Neider wan o’ dem knows no more about de silver ques- 
tion den I do about makin’ a pair o’ pants, but dat didn’t 
make no difference. 

“Dey’d get to a stage w’ere dey couldn’t tell wot dey 
t’ought o’ wan annoder wid a spiel, an’ den de big guy’d 
swing fer de little wan wid a blackt’orn he had in his mitt. 
De little guy’d duck an’ de big guy’d fall down, an’ den 
de argument was off till he got to his pins again. Dey 
kep’ on goin’ like dat till finally de big guy calls de little 
wan an A. P. A. an’ swings fer him wid de club again. 
Den it was off. 

“De little guy don’t leave him get up dis time, an’, on 
de square, fer five er ten minutes I t’ought I was goin’ t’ 
have murder in de house. De little guy went round him 
like a cooper around a barrel, an’ he wasn’t dere wid no 
bicycle shoes, neider. It took t’ree er four wallops in de 
jaw afore I could split dem out, an’ dey tell me dat de new 
bull dat was on dis beat fer a couple o’ nights went over 
an’ tol’ de captain I was runnin’ a rough house. A guy’s 
troubles never come single-handed, huh? I have a couple 
more arguments dat same evenin’, an’ some guy gets to 
me vest dat was hangin’ up back o’ de bar fer a two-case 
note. I finally sloughed de joint at 12 o’clock an’ went 
on home fer fear de long guy an’ de short guy’d drop in 
on me afore mornin’, 

“Wot’s de matter wid all youse guys? Are you all 
dead? Well, we can’t choke t’ deat’, I s’pose. Step dis 
way.” 


82 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE BARKEEP VISITS THE RACE-TRACK. 

BARKEEP took a fresh cigar and 
grinned at the gang in front of the bar. 
“I’ll tell yoiise guys,” he said, “dey 
ain’t nothin’ to it, us race-horse guys 
is de only people !’’ 

“Race-horse guys?” asked the seedy 
politician, “they ain’t got you again 
de horses, have they?’’ 

“Again de horses! Wot d’you mean 
— bettin’ on dem skates? Nix — not 
fer me! Not wid counterfeit money. 
But me an’ de pup has got all dem touts out dere beat t’ 
death. You oughter seen us out dere to-day — an’ vve 
came back wid de goods, too!” and the barkeep brought 
forth a roll of bills that caused most of his auditors to 
experience an itchy feeling at the tips of their fingers. 

“Where’s de pup? Did he land wit’ de goods, too?” 

“Sure. He got his bit. I s’pose he’s got too much 
money t’ come round here. He’ll ’bout show up w’en he’s 
broke an’ chokin’ t’ death. Y’ see dey was a guy handed 
me a ticket fer de track las’ night an’ on ’count o’ not hav- 
ing nothin’ to do to-day I t’ink I’ll go out an’ see de skates 
run, anyhow. An’ den I t’ought dey might be a chance 
t’ run onto some o’ dem race-horse guys dat I staked to 
get-away money las’ fall. Anyhow I cops a rattler an’ 
goes out dere an’ de first guy I make when I get inside de 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


83 


gate is de pup. He was planted dere waitin’ fer a live one, 
1 s’pose, an’ he must a fought I come out wid somethin’ 
on me meself, fer he grabs me right off de jump an’ starts 
t’ tell me wot he knows ’bout de first race. 

“ ‘Go on away from me,’ says I, ‘an’ tell dat to some- 
body’s got somethin’. I’m out here tryin’ t’ borry a little 
money.’ 

“ ‘You stick wid me an’ we’ll bot’ have money,’ says de 

pup. ‘Come on; let’s 
hustle togedder.’ Well, 
I goes wid him anyhow, 
an’ in ’bout t’ree min- 
utes he stops in front o’ 
two guys dat looks like 
dey wasn’t used t’ bein’ 
on a race-track, an’ de 
bot’ o’ dem look like' 
dey was ready money. 
W’en we gets in front 
o’ dem de pup cracks 
-to me like dis: ‘Well, 
wot d’ you t’ink you’ll 
do wid de mare to-day?’ 
kickin’ me in de shins 
at de same time. ‘I don’t 
see how I kin lose,’ says I. ‘I t’ink it’s an airtight.’ I 
seen de two suckers kinder rubberin’ at us an’ den de pup 
says, ‘Ain’t dat her goin’ dere now?’ pointin’ to a skate 
dat was bein’ warmed up out on de track widout no 
colors up. ‘Sure, dat’s her!’ says I, an’ we walks away a 
few feet, an’ sure enough de suckers is tailin’ us up. 

“ ‘You stick here,’ says I to de pup, all de time givin’ de 
two guys a chanct to hear wot I was crackin’, ‘an’ I’ll go 
down to de paddock and look de mare over an’ tell de boy 



“DE PUP GETS DE FORTY.” 


84 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


how to ride her. Den Til come back an’ hand you some 
money to bet fer me. I don’t t’ink dere’s a chanct on 
eart’ for her to lose, widout she drops dead’, an’ den I goes 
off behind one o’ de boxes an’ watches de pup. I ain’t 
gone a minute afore de pup turns round an’ borries a light 
from one o’ de guys, an’ he’s mixin’ up in der conversation 
right away. O’ course dey want t’ know w’ich skate is de 
one I own an’ de pup tells dem he’ll tip it off just as soon 
as de bettin’ opens, fer, he says, if dey ain’t a good price 
again de mare I might not send her out after de money. 

“Well, I goes back t’ w’ere de free o’ dem is standin’ 
an’ de pup interduces me to de suckers as a horse owner 
dat has his name in de papers free er four times a week. 

“ ‘Dat mare looks fit f win a Derby,’ says 1 . ‘It’s all 
over right now but hangin’ up de number.’ 

“Den I call de pup off an’ make de suckers fink I’m 
handin’ him a bunch o’ money f bet on de skate, an’ by 
dat time der all ribbed up an’ willin’ f bet der clothes on 
wot ever de pup tells dem. Well, w’en dey start f make 
book on de race I leave de pup f handle de guys 

“He takes dem into de bdttin’ ring an’ says: ‘Now, gim- 
me twenty f bet fer de jock an’ twenty f bet fer de trainer 
an’ dafll make it all de stronger. If de jock has a ticket 
on de horse in his pocket hje’ll go out in front off de jump 
an’ take no chanct o’ lettiii’ anyf ing get to him.’ 

“Well, de pup gets de forty an’ den points out a trick 
dat dey was layin’ 12 to i again an’ bof de suckers went 
down the line like a couple o’ reg’lar plungers, wid a surc- 
t’ing smile on der face dat’d make you fink of a hungry 
hobo dat has just found a live leather. W’en de horses 
comes out we see dat de one we has dem on is a big black 
skate dat looks like it just come offen a milk wagon an’ 
de one we pointed out dat was warmin’ up was a trim- 
lookin’ little bay. 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


85 


“ ‘If clat clog kin ever win we’ll have nothin’ but de 
money,’ says de pup w’en dey was off, but, on de square, 
after de race I was ’shamed t’ go back in de bettin’ ring. 
Dat big black dog must a’ been half a block behin’ de last 
horse at de finish. But dat never bothered de pup at all. 
He went down t’ hunt up de suckers. We land annoder 
guy again de same t’ing de last race an’ de trick we give 
him win, so we come back to town wid de goods on us, 
anyhow. 

“I tell you dat race-horse life is de only life. I t’ink 
I’ll quit -me job an’ join out wid de pup fer de balance o’ 
de summer.’’ 

“Well, I guess dat sticks you, don’t it?” asked the poli- 
tician, and the gang involuntarily lined up to the bar. 


86 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE BARKEEP TRIES THE BICYCLE. 


GUYS 'll quit kiddin’ me if I grab de 
seltzer • bottle,’’ said the barkeep the 
other evening as he turned to the mir- 
ror and sized up a somewhat badly bat- 
tered face and a particularly bad eye. 

‘‘Dat lamp 'll be all right in a day er 
two,’’ he continued, “an’ de rest of it 
don’t amount to nottin’. I don't t’ink 
I'll lose me girl on ’count o’ me looks.” 

“You look like a dog in de face,” re- 
marked the pup, “but tell us, on de 
square, an’ all kiddin’ off, who was you fightin’ wid?’’ 

“ rightin’? I s’pose youse guys don’t t’ink a guy kin 
get a bum lamp no odder way only w’en somebody hands 
him a punch in de face? I wasn’t fightin’ wid nobody — 
only me bicycle.” 

“Yer bicycle?” came in chorus from his auditors. 

“Yes, me bicycle. I s’pose a guy ain’t entitled t’ ride 
wan o’ dem if he wants to? I’m agin it an’ agin it plenty, 
but I wasn’t goin’ t’ tip it off to nobody till I got so’s I 
could handle de bloomin’ t’ing widout bein’ afraid I was 
goin’ t’ break me nut open agin de pavin’ blocks every 
time I has to dodge a bread wagon, an’ den I was goin’ t’ 
come down de line wid me reg’lar bicycle suit on dat I’m 
havin’ made an’ show youse guys wot dead ones y’ are.’’ 

“Oh! an’ dere you are. eh?” broke in the pup. “I guess 





THE BARKEEP STORIES. S7 

you'll lay purty quiet now, won’t you? Ain’t so stuck on 
clem bicycles as you was afore you jolted yer face again 
de street, are^you? De street-cars ’ll be purty good fer 
me old pal from dis time on, won’t dey? I guess you’ll—” 
Aw', shut up ! ' I s pose w’en wan o’ youse guys gets 
trowed in jail dat stops you from goin’ out hustlin’ de nex’ 
day? A guy dat wants to be one o’ cJem bicycle riders 
has got to stand fer a few bumps in de nose. You’ll see 
me coinin’ down de boulyvard afore long wid a pair o’ 

dem checkered 
stockin’s an’ wan o’ 
dem chappie’s caps 
on. Der ain’t nottin’ 
to it. A guy ain’t in 
line no more widout 
he rides one o’ dem.” 

“Was you out on 
de street yet, er are 
you stickin’ to de al- 
ley fer awhile?” in- 
quired the pup. 

“I ain’t been ridin’ 
in no alley. I been 
over here to de bi- 
cycle school. I wisht 
I’d a stuck dere awhile longer. Coin’ out on de street 
was de cause of all me troubles. 

“Y’ see, der’s a guy I know's dat’s workin’ over here in 
wan o’ dem joints w’ere dey teach suckers how to ride 
bicycles, an’ he takes me over dere wid him de odder day 
t’ see a few funny falls. I watch dem guys havin’ rough- 
an’-tumble fights an’ ketch-as-ketch-can rasslin’ matches 
wid der machines for awhile an’ den, o’ course, I t’ink, 
like a sucker, dat it’d be soft fer me t’ ride wan o’ dem an’ 



“DEY AIN’T NONE O’ DEM GOT ME 
BEAT.” 


88 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


I go an’ crack t’ me friend t’ drag out a bicycle fer me an’ 
start me off. 

‘‘He goes an’ gets wan o’ dem dat dey have fer dem new 
guys t’ ride, one o’ dem dat y’ couldn’t hardly break wid 
a sledge-hammer, an’ he puts me on it an’ starts me off 
good an’ plenty. I kep’ on goin’ all right, but everybody 
dat got a flash o’ me cornin’ took to de woods. I gets 
down near de far end o’ de hall widout failin’ off, but 
w’en I come t’ turn t’ go up de back stretch I trip up free 
or four guys, wid one lady in de bunch, I b'lieve. Dat 
gets me sore an’ o’ course I can’t show no yeller streak be 
quittin’ at dat stage, so I stick, an’ be de time I blow I 
t’ink I’m purty bully. I go back de nex’ day an’ hand de 
guy de price fer a bunch b’ lessons, and be de end of de 
week I got an idea in me nut dat dey ain’t none o’ dem got 
me beat. 

“Den, o’ course, I’m stuck t’ do me turn on de boule- 
vard, an’ I gets up to-day an’ goes over to me fren’ in de 
bicycle teachin’ joint, swings on him fer de loan of a w’eel 
an’ starts out. 

“I’m purty fair, barrin’ blowin’ me holt of de machine a 
couple o’ times widout no damage, till I get way out souf . 
Den I want f be wan o’ dem scorchers, an’ dat was de 
startin’ in o’ me finish. 

“I’m goin’ along purty good w’en I see a fat guy ridin’ 
towards me kinder slow. Just den a milk wagon er some- 
fin’ rounds de corner on de hot-foot an’ I do me little 
duck on de outside. So does de fat guy. I see him corn- 
in’, but dey was no chance fer me f side-step him widout I 
fell off me wheel. In annoder minute me an’ him an’ a 
couple o’ bicycles is all over de street. 

“It must ’a been swell fer a guy dat had a peek at us. 
Talk ’bout me bein’ marked, you’d ought to see de fat guy. 
He went out altogeder, an’ I had me machine, er as 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


89 


much as dey was of it, in an express wagon, an’ was ridin’ 
downtown afore he come to. 

“But dat’ll be all right. Youse guys kin gimme de 
laugh now, but I’ll be wan o’ dem bicycle riders if I get 
a bum lamp an’ blow part o’ me check-rack every time I 
get on de t'ing. Just keep yer lamps on me dis sum- 
mer!’’ and the barkeep reached for the different samples 
of “bottled goods” on the back bar and proceeded to fill 
them all out of the same jug. 


90 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


t 


THE RACE-TRACK TOUT DESCRIBES - 
A BALL GAME. 

AT one of the Indiana race tracks last 
Sunday evening a crowd of stable-boys, 
touts and jockeys were loafing around 
one of the stables discussing the races 
of the day before and trying to figure 
out the right ones for the day to follow. 

There wasn’t even a crap game 
around to furnish a little excitement 
and the conversation was lagging when 
there hove in sight a young man known 
around the tracks as “Sliver.” 

“Sliver” was dressed in his best and looked, as one of 
the crowd expressed it, “like ready money.” “Sliver” 
made his living by inducing unsophisticated people to 
believe that he knew which horse was to win a race and 
getting them to bet their money accordingly. In short, 
he was a tout. 

“Where you been. Sliver — out wit’ yer reg’lar folks?’’ 
asked one of the crowd. 

“Nix. I been out t’ see a sellin’ race.” 

“A sellin’ race!” — this in chorus from his audience. 

“Yes, an’ you’d think by de mob dey was dere dat dey 
was goin’ t’ run off a t’irty t’ousan’ dollar stake.” 

“You better go on back to de joint. You smoke a 
couple o’ more pills an’ you’ll be thinkin' you’ve got a guy 
down fer nothin’ short of a century to every trick that 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


91 


starts. What d’ you think o’ that! Sunday night, an’ he’s 
been out to see a sellin’ race!” 

“Aw, you quit yer kiddin’. Dis was one between Chi- 
cago and St. Louis — de ball game I mean.” 

“Oh, you was out to see dem base-ball players! It was 
a bum game, huh?” 

“Yes, fer everybody but de guys dat owns de track. I 

mean de park where dey 
play. Dey was so many 
people a guy dat ain’t next 
to de game didn’t have no 
chance t’ see w’at dey was 
doin’. Y’ see dey was not- 
tin’ to de bloomin’ t’ing. 
De Chicago mob got off 
in de lead an’ nottin’ ever 
got to dem. I mean de 
Saint Loois guys never 
got to dem. Dey swelled 
der lead every jump an’ 
turned into de stretch a 
block in front an’ win wit' 
der head pulled sideways 
in a natural walk. Dat’s 
all dat was de matter wid 
de race — de game, I mean. 
I’d a liked to seen dem 



“DEY WIN WIT’ DER HEAD 
PULLED SIDEWAYS.” 


head an’ head at some part o’ de route.” 

“Wot was dey layin’ again Chicago?" 

“Dey don’t make no book on dem ball games. Dat 
was de only t’ing I was sore about. I didn’t have no 
chance t’ tout nobody, widout it was again’ pop er bum 
cigars. If dey’d a’ been a chance to put down a bet I 
b’lieve I’d ’a been on de wrong one anyhow. Y’ see Saint 


92 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


Loois comes out first fer cler exercise gallop an’ I kinder 
liked de way dey warmed up. Den Chicago comes out 
fer a breeze t’roo de stretch, an’ I, not bein’ wise to de 
game, I t’ink it’s about a stand-ofif between de two o’ dem 
an’ wit’ even weights dat der might be a chance fer a swell 
finish. But a guy can’t get no line on dem ball players 
by watchin’ dem work, fer after de first couple o’ jumps 
der wasn’t a minute dat Chicago wasn’t a i-to-io shot. 

“After de two o’ dem is t’roo wit’ der warmin’-up gal- 
lops de official starter comes out an’ drops de flag. Dat 
is, he blows his whistle. The official starter and de judge 
is de same guy — an’ he kin have his job. If a guy’d make 
a roar again a decision on a race-track to de judge like I 
see dem guys out dere doin’ to de judge at dat ball game 
he’d be ruled ofif every track in de world fer de balance 
of his life. 

“Dey makes a rule out dere, on ’count o’ de mob dat’s 
standin’ round de infield, dat de guy dat wallops de ball 
into de crowd is entitled to go to de t’ree-quarter pole. 
Den he sticks dere till he has a chance t’ sprint fer de 
wire w’en annoder guy wallops de ball. An’ dat’s w’ere 
de judge comes in. Wot he says goes ’bout whedder de 
guy beats de ball er de ball beats de guy to de wire, an’ 
he has a many a nose finish t’ decide at dat. 

“De head guy o’ de Chicagos made a hit wit’ me w’en 
he was sprintin’. He kin wallop de ball all right, but it’s 
a sight t’ see him run. Dey tell me he’s older den old 
Barnum was afore dey quit sendin’ him after de money 
down to the Beach. Dis old guy I’m tellin’ you about kin 
sprint fer de quarter pole purty fair, aldough he’s a bit 
slow gettin’ off, an’ I guess his action ain’t wot it used 
to be. 

“But w'en he has to go up de back stretch to de half he 
begins to look like a sellin’ plater, an’ by de time he’s 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


93 


roundin’ de far turn fer de t’ree-quarters he ain’t goin’ fast 
enough to head an ice wagon an’ looks like he’s ready to 
t'row his tail up into de air an’ buck-jump any minute. 
But at dat he’s bully if he’s as old as dey say He is. 

“Dere’s one guy in de game dat makes more noise w’en 
one o’ dem ball-players is tearin’ down de stretch tryin’ to 
beat de ball to de wire den a sucker wit’ a two-dollar note 
on a hundred-to-one shot dat’s out in front. Dey call 
him de coacher. You’d t’ink by de way he pulls fer de 
guy to win dat he was down on him fer a chunk that’d 
make Riley Grannan look like a pik 

"Dere’s no use talkin’, dem ball games has cert’nly got 
a lot o’ people stuck. De only t’ing I was sore ’bout was 
t’inkin’ wot a guy could do if dat bunch o’ suckers dat was 
out to dat ball game could only be turned loose on a race- 
track.” 


94 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE BARKEEP GETS THE “BUNCO.” 

WE’RE goin’ t’ turn off yer ” This 

expression was addressed to the bar- 
keep the other evening by a man in the 
garb of a laborer. 

The sentence had been rudely.inter- 
rupted by a stream from the seltzer 
bottle and a couple of bar towels, 
hurled at the speaker, who fled precip- 
itately. 

“Wot’s de matter wit’ you? Are you 
sore because dem guys is goin’ t' turn 
off yer water er wotever it is?” asked the pup, while the 
rest of the gang looked at the barkeep in surprise. 

“Turn off nothin’! I see right now dat youse'guys ain’t 
wise to de latest way o’ booze-graftin’. I wasn’t wise to it 
meself till I fell again it de odder day, but I’ll lay a little 
better den even money dat I don’t fall no more. It’s swell 
at dat. Anybody’d stand fer it dat never seen it afore. 

‘‘Y’ see, t’ree er four days ago I’m on watch in de after- 
noon w’en in blows a couple o’ guys wid der shirt sleeves 
rolled up, an’ red undershirts an’ der overalls lookin’ like 
dey’d fell into a mudhole somewheres. De bot’ o’ dem 
looks like a couple o’ boys dat has just come out of a 
sewer to get a little drink fer derselves. One o’ dem 
cracks like dis: ‘Say, Mister, we’re goin’ t’ turn off yer 
water fer awhile, an’ we fought we’d come an’ tell yer so’s 
you wouldn’t have no trouble.’ 




THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


95 


“ ‘Much 'bliged t’ you,' I says, an’ den, t’inkin’ dey’re 
entitled to a drink, 'Wot'll you have?’ says 1. I gives dem 
a bowl o’ beer apiece an’ den 1 gives dem annoder one on 
de condition dat dey don’t tip it off to de Dutchman 
acrost de street dat dey was goin’ to turn de water off. 

“Den I hand dem a rope apiece an’ dey tell me dey’ll 
come in an’ tell me w’en everyt’in’ is all right again. 

“As soon as dey screw I start to frame up fer de water 
bein’ shut off. I fill all de pails an’ buckets in de joint 

an’ den I send de hobo 
out t’ borry a couple o’ 
tubs an’ I fill dem too, 
till finally de back o’ 
de bar looks like a naty- 
toryum. I come near 
failin’ into dem tubs 
two er t’ree times, and 
I did put me gam into 
wan bucket afore I fell 
to it dat I’d been 
handed as purty a 
bunch o’ de bull con 
“WE’RE COIN’ T’ SHUT YER WATER as I’d heard tell of in 
” many a day.” 

• “De bull con !’’ exclaimed his auditors. 

“Yes, de bull con. Dem two guys wid de mud on der 
jeans just dealt me as nice a chunk o’ de bunco as ever 
was tossed into a sucker in de world. De water never did 
quit runnin’, an’ I fell over dem pails an’ tubs fer t’ree 
hours afore it come into me narrow head dat I was again 
de nuts. Den it costs me t’ree er four boozes t’ snake de 
hobo so’s he won’t tip it off to de gang, an’ he win supper 
money emptyin’ de tubs an’ draggin’ dem back w’ere he 
got dem. He’s been shakin’ me down fer booze ever 



96 


- THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


since, an’ so I t’ought I might as well tip it off meself. Dat 
was a poor one, I guess. An’ dey was dere wid de reg’lar 
make-up an’ ev’ryt’in’! Well, I’ll bet dere ain’t a guy in 
de world dat wouldn’t stand fer it de way it come to me. 

“But I’m liable to cut loose wid a cannon at de nex’ 
guy dat comes in an’ starts to t’row me dat spiel. 

“An’ de only t’ing I want youse guys to do if you want 
to keep in good repute wid me is to see dat de Dutchman 
ain't put next. See?” 

“Well, you better show us somet’in’. We won’t stand 
fer you to play no favorites wid de hobo,” said the seedy 
politician, and the gang proceeded to line up to the bar. 


THE BARKEBP STORIES. 


97 


THE BARKEEP DISCUSSES THE 
SILVER QUESTION. 





TELL me somet’in’. Wot’s all clis ar- 
gument clem politicians is havin’ 'bout 
dis gold money an’ dis silver money?” 
asked the barkeep one morning of the 
copper on the beat, who had just drop- 
ped in for his usual eye-opener. 

“Argumints about money, is it?” re- 
sponded the guardian of the peace ; “be 
gobs, I don’t t’ink dther’s many av thim 
politicians has got anny money to be 
fightin’ over. I see a hull lot more av 
thim around widout it than wid it. Phwat’s th’ argu- 
mint?” 

“That’s wot I just cracked to you fer, t’ see if I could 
get wise to wot it was meself. I’m readin’ all de time in 
de papers ’bout dis swell politician bein’ fer gold money 
an’ dat one fer silver money, and all dis an’ dat, an’ w’ere 
wan mob dey call de gold-bugs is boldin’ a meetin’ at dis 
place an’ ’bout a bunch o’ silver guys dat’s framin’ it up 
between demselves somewheres else. I guess dey must 
be scrappin’ about what kind o’ money we’re goin’ t’ 
handle from dis time on, huh?” 

“Oi don’t know, meself,” replied the copper. “Oi don’t 
care phwat kind av money a man wants! He’ll get my 
vote av he’s on th’ dimocrat ticket,” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


ds 


“Cert’nly. Dat’s all youse turks know, is to eat corn 
beef an’ cabbage an’ vote fer de democrats. If I had me 
fren’ de politician here he could put me next to wot de 
split-up was ’bout de gold an’ silver money. I start 
readin’ a book a guy gimme one time ’bout dis money ar- 
gument an’ I trim it in de stove afore I went very far. It 
would ’a had me bug-house sure. 

‘‘I t’ink dat it said i6 to i on de cover o’ de book. Wot 
was dat — wot de guy dat wrote it was willin’ to lay dat 
he was right! Oh, dat’s 
right; I fergot. You don 
know nottin’ ’bout it. ’Bout 
all you know is to t’row 
some poor guy dat ain’t 
got nottin’ in de bandhouse. 

“I b’lieve I seen some- 
where w’ere dem swell guys 
dat owns de banks an’ one 
t’ing an annoder is all fer 
havin’ gold money an’ dat 
dem boys dat comes to 
town from out west wid 
w’iskers on der face an’ der 
pants in der boots is all fer 
de silver. Well, eider one 
o’ dem’s purty good. I no- 
tice dat de guys dat owns 
de banks is all dere wid der reg’lar tally-hos an’ is livin’ in 
dem brown stone fronts, but I’m kinder stuck on de 
odder guys, too, fer I know a hull lot o’ people dat’d 
starve t’ deat’ if dey didn’t drop into town once in awhile. 

“But I can’t get it t’roo me nut wot de banker guys 
see in de silver money dat don’t suit dem an’ wot de boys 
wid d^ w’iskers i§ all de time lettin’ a roar out o’ dem agin’ 



“WAN O’ DEM BOYS FROM 
KANSAS.” 


^ THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


99 


de guys dat’s stuck on de gold. I’ll stand fer eider. All 
I want is to get me mitts on enough of it. 

“W’y don’t de gold guys an’ de silver guys declare 
it all off an’ fix it so’s dey won’t make nottin’ but paper 
money from dis time on? Dat’d be good enough fer me. 
If dey was no silver money an’ a guy come in wid a paper 
case note I couldn’t make no change — see? — and de guy’d 
have to take it out in booze if he wanted to get action 
fer it. 

“W’y, dey got all dem guys round here in de ist ward 
dat never uster let nottin’ bodder dem only t’ find out 
w’ich guy, dat was out fer alderman has de most coin — 
w’y, dey’re all fightin’ ’bout dis gold and silver. I see 
right now dat I’ll be a lobster if I don’t get somebody t’ 
put me wise to it. I t’ink I’ll go out an’ drop in on me 
fren’ dat runs de p’litical club out sout’ w’ere I made de 
spiel dat night an’ see wot he knows about it. 

“Y’ see I want to be framed up in case one o’ dem 
boys from Kansas drops into de joint, so’s I kin go ’long 
an’ be wid him on de money argument widout makin’ no 
bloomers an’ tippin’ me mit. • W ell, you might as well 
take to de woods now before de sergeant comes in an’ 
ketches you in de joint. I got into trouble over de last 
bull was on dis beat. Cop dis drink an’ screw. I got to 
figger up an’ see if de register don’t owe me a little 
change.’’ 




100 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE BARKEEP HAS A TOOTH PULLED. 


DERE’S me pal now an’ he’s all ablaze,’’ 
was the greeting of the barkeep the 
other evening as the pup entered the 
place wearing a cane, a new summer 
suit and an expansive smile. 

“De glad right mitt, old comrade!” 
continued the barkeep as he extended 
his hand over the bar. “I must say 
you’re lookin’ rummy! Dat’s a poor 
front you got, I guess. Wot’s dat? 
Join you! W’y, cert’nly. Your con- 
versation is very pleasant. 

“Step dis way, gen’lemen ; me fren’ has dropped in wid 
de goods. De wine clerk can’t carry nottin’ over to youse 
guys, so you’ll have to swing on de bar if you want any 
’tention. 

“I see right now dat I’ll have to hire a few new boost- 
ers purty soon. Some of youse guys has been workin’ 
too long at de wan job, I guess. Well, how’s it been, old 
pal? You cert’nly do look like you was dere wid de 
coarse currency. You must ’a beat a race er two fer yer 
own money lately. Dey was a guy was tellin’ me yester- 
day dat you had all dem bookmakers out dere rubbin’ 
every time dey got a flash o’ you cornin’ towards dem. 
How is dat?” 

“Say,” broke in the pup, “did you ever notice how w’en 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


101 


a guy comes ’round wid a new front an a spark in sight 
an’ lookin’ like he’s got de goods dat ev’rybody dat he 
ever knowed is all out wid de glad mitt, and dey all start 
right off de jump to hand him de bull in some shape er 
form?” 

“Dey’s nottin’ to it,” agreed the barkeep. “You have 
my views. But we’ll just quit shootin’ de bull an’ be on 
de square fer a minute. Just hand me ninety fer dem 


drinks you just got.. 
You’re de slowest guy I 
ever did see. You need 
more heelin’ an’ han- 
dlin’ in front of^ a bar 



den a sucker. T’ank 
» you. I’ll just ring up 
de single on ’count o’ de 
^ hard times. Oh, dat’s 
all right, you’ll get ac- 
tion fer it. I’ll smoke a 
cigar wid you aftei 
awhile.” 


“Oh, but a guy don’t 
get it handed in to him 
raw er nottin’ ’round 
here. W’y don’t you 


“W’Y DON’T YOU START A NUT- 
JOINT?” 


Start a nut-joint?” asked the pup, as he started for the 
door. 

“Aw, dat’s all right. You ain’t had no money in so long 
you ain’t used to dat kind o’ handlin’, dat’s all. But you’re 
bein’ handled wid kid gloves compared to wot dey give me 
yesterday. Dis was up in wan o’ dem dentist joints. Dey 
don’t do nottin’ to a mark dat falls in dere. Y’ see, I got 
a bum toot’ fer de last week an’ yesterday mornin’ I wake 


/ 



102 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


up t’inkin’ somebody’s wallopin’ me in the jaw wid a 
sledge hammer. 

*‘I stalls round fer a half a day wid it, coppin’ booze an’ 
everyt’ing’ else t’ try t’ make meself t’ink it ain’t achin’. 
Wan guy in a drug store gimme somet’in’ t' shove up in 
de toot’ an’ near poisoned me. 

“I finally tears to a toot’-jerkin’ joint. Now I’d sooner 
get a wallop in de nose at any stage den to let a guy pull 
a toot’, so you kin see dat it had me goin’, er I never’d 
stood fer to have it jerked. Well, up I goes in de joint, 
an’ you talk ’bout bein’ handled! I was handled to de 
queen’s taste. 

“T’ree er four guys an’ a couple o’ ladies all git to me 
an’ be de time dey’re troo dey had me t’inkin’ dat I didn’t 
have a good toot’ in me jaw. Accordin’ to dem I’d have 
t’ have t’ree er four new ones an’ a half a dozen more o’ 
dem plugged up an’ a few o’ dem filed an’ de hull o’ dem 
scraped er I wouldn’t have no teet’ at all in a year. 

“ ‘Dat’ll be all right,’ says I; ‘just grab dat bum one 
dat’s hurtin’ me an’ den I’ll talk wid you.’ Den in comes a 
guy wid a squirt-gun full o’ dope like dey shoot into dem 
race-horses dat’s got a bum gam, and he shoots it into me 
jaw. He’s t’rowin’ de bull into me at de same time — dat I 
won’t know wot’s cornin’ ofif wid dat dope in me. Den in 
comes a little guy dat don't weigh ninety pounds. He’s 
got a pair o’ tongs in his mitt as big as himself. I t’ink at 
first dat he’s de valley fer de first guy, er somet’in’, but he 
just grabs me by de jaw an’ jerks me mout’ open an’ rub- 
bers at dat bum toot’ like he’s de whole t’ing an’ I’m a 
wooden Indian. Den he goes at me. He grabs me by de 
ear an’ gets a holt on me toot’ wid his tongs. Den he wal- 
lops me in de jaw a couple o’ times wid his left, an’ den he 
tries t’ gouge me lamp out wid de heel of his mitt and jabs 
me in de t’roat every once in awhile fer a change. He 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


103 


finally gets a strangle holt on me neck wid his arm an’ a 
half-Nelson on de toot’ wid de tongs an’ den dere’s a 
rasslin’ match fer a minute er two fer yer life. But he 
had his holt an’ he had me down, an’ dat's all dere was to 
it. W’en he finally let me up after he gets de toot’ he 
t'rows dat con smile at me an’ says: ‘Now, it didn’t hurt 
you none, did it?’ 

•‘You talk about a guy bein’ handled from soup to 
nuts! Dey get a sucker up dere, t’row de bull con into 
him, break him, near murder him, an’ den give him a 
couple o’ hot-backs an’ send him away t'inkin’ dey’re de 
best -fellers in de world. Dem guys an’ de doctors has got 
me cheated w’en it comes to handlin’ a mark right. 

“Well, I s’pose we got to choke I’ deat’ cause you got 
money? Huh? Certainly! I knowed all de time you’ 
was me pal. Step dis way once more, gen'lmen!’’ 


104 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE BARKEEP TALKS OF HIS BICYCLE. 



AIN’T nottin’ to it. I’m going t’ 
start in dat road race an’, on de 
square, I don’t see how I kin lose.” 

These remarks were addressed by 
the barkeep to the gang in the place 
the other evening just as he was about 
to start out for a short spin on his 
wheel. 

“You’ll do bully in dat road race!” 
responded the pup. “W’y, der’s some 
o’ dem guys dey tell me dat’s got dem 
race horses beat to deaf. You got a fine chance mixin’ 
up wid dat mob. 

“W’y, it ain’t more’n a couple o’ weeks since we seen 
you ’round here wid a bum lamp an’ yer face beat up 
from not knowin’ how f ride yer bloomin’ wheel. An’ 
now yer talkin’ ’bout buttin’ in wid dem cracker-jacks. 
You’re gettin’ as daffy as most o’'de rest o’ dem bicycle 
riders. W’y, dey’ll be some o’ dem guys ’ll be under de 
wire before you get it rightly froo yer nut dat de flag’s 
dropped.” 

“Do you t'ink dey will? Five ’ll get you ten any time 
you t’ink you kin pick a guy dafll beat me home — just 
to show you how well I t’ink o’ meself. W’y, I never got 
a line on meself till yesterday. Dey was a play come up 
w’ere I get a chance f show me speed an’ I just make wan 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


105 


o’ dem guys — wot d' you call dem, scorchers? — well, I 
just make wan o’'dem guys look like a sellin’-plater, dafs 
all. 

"But, say, tell me somet’in’. How do I look wid de 
reg’lar make-up on, anyhow? Dey’re bad, I guess. 
Dat’s a poor gam, huh? VVot’s dat? If it wasn’t fer me 

face I’d be a swell- 



lookin’ 


guy: 


Wot’s 


de matter wid hie face? 
W’y, I got a girl dat’s 
been ribbin’ me up 
’bout bein’ good look- 
in’ so strong dat I 
come near havin’ me 
photograph took de 
odder day. Eider 
youse guys is bad 
judges of a good-look- 
in’ guy er else de lady 
is shootin’ de bull 
into me. 

“B u t I’m tellin’ 
youse ’bout bein’ a 
sprinter — no, a scorch- 
er, dat’s right. Ye see, 
yesterday is de first 
day I got me bicycle 
make-up on, an’, of 
course, I’m stuck t’ get out an’ make a flash wid it. Well, 
I’m goin’ down de boulyvard nice an’ easy an’ I’m rubber- 
in’ at dem checkered stockin’s I got all de time. Dem is 
hot ones, ain’t dey? I’m trying to pick put a guy dat’s 
got me make-up beat w’en I sees a guy sprintin’ by me 
dat I kinder fought I knowed. He’s wan o’ dem scorch- 


“DEM IS HOT ONES, AIN’T DEY?” 


106 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


ers, an’ he’s goin’ t'irty mile an hour, wid his back bent 
up like a scared cat an’ his chin on de handle bar. I’m 
tryin’ t’ place him an’ all of a suddent I makes him. He’s 
a guy dat’s owed me a case an’ a half fer drinks fer free 
months an’ he’s kep’ out o’ de joint ever since I stood fer 
de marker. ‘Well,’ I says f meself, ‘I’ll just go after dat 
guy now,' an’ away I starts. Say, on de square, I never 
went so fast in me life, an’ I never knowed I was dere 
so strong afore. 

“W’y, I just made dat scorcher look like a dead one. 
He come back to me like a skate dat beats de flag comes 
back to a stake horse w’en dey’re going ’round de far 
turn. Ev’ryt’ing would ’a been all right an’ I’d ’a grabbed 
de guy inside of annoder block w’en I rubber ’round an’ 
see wan o’ dem park bulls tearin’ after me on a big long- 
legged skate dat looked like de chances was he could go 
some. De bull is roarin’ at me, an’ de guy I’m after 
makes him at de same time. Y’ see, dem coppers has deir 
orders f grab all dem bicycle riders daf s goin’ faster den 
wot dey’re entitled to be de law, an’ we was away over de 
limit. 

“Well, I don’t know wot t’ do. If I stop ifs firty to 
one I can’t con de bull out of cakin’ me after leadin’ him de 
chase I did, an’ it was a pipe dat I couldn’t stand fer no 
pinch. I’m wishin’ de odder guy’d stop and gimme a 
chance to make me getaway w’en I see him cut acrost de 
boulyvard an’ tear down a side street. Dey ain’t nothin’ 
left fer me to do but to keep on de way I was an’ de bull, 
me bein’ de closest to him, he just keeps after me, see? 
‘Well,’ I says to meself, ‘de only fing dat’ll make me stop 
is fer de bull to cut loose wid a cannon, an’ if he ketches 
me on de square dat skate he’s gofll t’ink he’s been to de 
races. 

“Den it was me an’ him for it, an’, say, I just made him 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


107 


look like a dog, dat’s all. De only t’ing I’m leary ’bout 
is dat I’ll run into some o’ dem wagons, but I duck away 
from dem dat’s in sight all right, an’ de next time I rubber 
round I’ve about lost de bull altogedder. Den I duck 
around a couple o’ blocks an’ finally blow into a Dutch- 
man’s joint an’ plant fer awhile. W’en I come out I’m all 
swelled up. Den 1 t’ink ’bout a guy dat handed me name 
in a week ago just fer a kid to de guy dat’s framin’ up.de 
road race, but it’ll go on de square now. I’m goin’ t’ start 
in de bloomin’ race if I don’t last a minute. 

“An’ between me an’ you, if I was makin’ a book on de 
race I wouldn’t lay over a t’ousand to one dat I won’t be 
one-two-t’ree. De only t’ing I’m leary of is me wind. I’m 
goin’ out t’ give meself an exercisin’ gallop right now. I 
may not be able to beat some o’ dem guys on de level 
dat’s been ridin’ t’ree or four years, but mebbe I kin out- 
general a few o’ dem. Just leave it to me.” 


108 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE BARKEEP STARTS IN THE 
ROAD RACE. 

I START in de road race? Does a hobo 
like his hops? Yoiise guys heard me 
say de odder day dat I was goin’ to de 
post, didn’t you? I should say I did 
start! Me start was swell, but me fin- 
ish was on de bum.” 

These remarks emanated from the 
barkeep a night or two ago in response 
to a question from the seedy politician. 
The barkeep had just entered the place 
with a bandage around his head, a 
shade over one eye, and his left arm in a sling. 

‘AV'ere did you finish?” ventured the pup, as he edged 
toward the door. 

“Out in de country somew’eres. I dunno just w’ere it 
was. Me finish must 'a been a peach fer anybody dat was 
rubberin’ at me.” 

“Wot’s de matter — w’y didn’t you go de route?” 

“W’y didn’t I go de route? Say, did ever you start a 
scrap dat you didn’t finish? W’y, cert’nly you did. You 
was willin’ enough to go de route, but you was stopped; 
ain’t dat it, huh? Well, dat’s just de way it was wid me. 
Dey stopped me an’ stopped me plenty.” 

“Did you fall off yer w’eel?” 

“Did I fall off me w’eel? You might as well ask a guy 
dat gets trowed out of a wagon by de railroad cars did he 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


109 


fall out. Yes, I fell off me w’eel. Dat is, I blovved it 
somehow, but it was a case o’ force.” 

“Well, w’y don’t you cut loose an’ tell us ’bout de 
bloomin’ race?” asked the pup. “You was around here 
last week swellin’ yerself up an’ shootin’ it inter de gang 
’bout bein’ a sprinter wid yer w’eel an’ how you had de 
most o’ dem bicycle-ridin’ guys cheated, an’ now we’re 
stuck to find out wot was de matter dat you didn’t beat 

de bunch home an’ 
hear you stall fer yer- 
s e 1 f ’bout w’y you 
wasn’t one-two-t’ree- 
hundred at de finish. 
I told you how it’d be 
afore you went in, 
didn’t I?” 

“You told me . 

If I didn’t have dis 
bum mitt I’d fix you 
^ )> so’s you wouldn’t tell 

nobody nottin’ de bal- 
- ance o’ yer life. You’re 
wise enough to pick 
out de right time to 
kid somebody. You 
better lay purty quiet 
er I’ll get .you fer dis w’en you ain’t lookin’ fer it. 

“T’ tell youse guys de troot’, l ain’t stuck to do much 
soielin’ dis ev’nin’. Me jaw feels like I had lose a p'litical 
argument in de Twenty-nint’ ward. Well, I might as well 
be on de square wid youse guys ’bout de race. I’ll tell 
you right now, dough, dat as fur as I went I was de 
champion o’ de bunch. 

“Y’ see, I go to de post feelin’ like a two-year-old an’ 



“AN’ DAT WAS ME FINISH.” 


110 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


willin’ t’ take a French dat I’ll be in at de finish fer a 
cut at some part o’ de money. All I got on is me bathin’ 
-suit dat I use out to de beach in de summer, but I got 
a lot o’ dem guys beat at dat. On account o’ de guy dat 
framed up de race not knowin’ nothin’ ’bout me speed he 
puts me up near de front o’ de bunch an’ I’m t’inkin’ how 
soft it’s goin’ to be fer me, w’en de starter drops de flag. 

“Fer de first part o’ de route I’m a stake-horse, an’ it 
ain’t no kid. I’m sprintin’ down de road like I had 
grabbed some sucker’s w’eel an’ was makin’ a hot-foot 
getaway wid it, an’ I must ’a passed a dozen guys w’en 
I rubber round. 

“An’ dere you are, right dere. Dat rubberin’ round 
was de cause of all me troubles. Did you ever see a 
guy on de street rubber round at a lady an’ fall over his 
feet? Well, dat was me. Y’ see, I’m t’inkin’ how soft 
it’s goin’ t’ be fer me t’ trim all dem guys dat’s in front 
o’ me, an’ den, o’ course, I have to rubber round an’ see 
if any o’ dem guys dat is supposed to be cracker-jacks an’ 
is carryin’ de top weight in de handicap is coinin’ up be- 
hind me. An’ dere you are. 

“Dat rubberin’ round was de startin’ o’ me finish. Y’ 
see, w’ere we was ridin’ ain’t exac’y de same as one o’ 
dem boulevards, an’ w’en I rubber I blow de road. 

’’I don’t know wot I did run into, but I land head first 
again’ somet'in’, an’ w’en I finally come to I look like 
I’d been troo de Saint Loois cyclone. You talk about a 
guy bein’ beat up! Say, I was in a fight onct wid t’ree 
Dutchmen an’ every one o’ dem wid a beer mallet er an 
ice-pick in his mitt, an’ I was a good-lookin’ guy w’en I 
come out o’ de mix-up to wot I was las’ Saturday. 

“A guy dat seen me finish said dat 1 run over a log an’ 
landed again’ a tree like a billy goat again’ a back fence 
wid a buck beer sign on it. Dey drags me an’ me w’eel 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


Ill ' 


over to a guy’s house an’ keeps me dere till I come to. 
Den I borry some clo’se from de guy an’ hire annoder 
geezer to drive me home. De doc -I got says he’ll have 
me mitt fixed so I kin draw beer in a couple o’ weeks. 

“I guess dem boulevards ’ll be purty good fer me an’ 
me bicycle from dis time on, an’ I don’t care how many 
bulls dey got planted along de road t’ stop dem scorchers. 
I won’t bodder dem. Dat scorchin’ goes fer anybody dat 
t’inks well of it. Have a drink?” 


112 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE BARKEEP TELLS OF POLITICAL 
ARGUMENTS. 


GUYS wid dem long silver an’ gold 
arguments make me tired,” remarked 
the barkeep the other evening as he 
reached for the policeman’s bottle and 
invited the copper on the beat to join 
him. 

“Phvvat argumints is thim?” re- 
sponded the guardian of the peace, 
pouring out a drink that brought forth 
a gentle remonstrance from the man 
behind the bar. 

‘'What arguments? You ain’t been asleep around here, 
have you? Why, dem arguments dat you hear every- 
w’eres you go ’bout w’ich kind o’ money is de best — de 
silver er de gold, I been listenin’ to dem ’round here till 
I’m near daffy an ain’t got no more idea right now wot 
de argument is den I had before I ever heard de first guy 
crack about it. On de square, I got an idea in me nut 
dat dis silver an’ gold has got near all dem guys bug.- 
house. Dey’ll get togedder an’ start an’ argument an’ 
den go along fer an hour an’ a half widout sayin’ nottin’ 
at all dat a guy on de outside kin git Joseph to, an’ dey’ll 
work harder makin’ deir spiel den if dey was tryin’ to 
borry a ten-dollar note on a t’ree-dollar watch from some 
sucker. 

“An’ de blow-off is always de same. Neider wan o’ 
dem ever wins dc argument. Dey finish by wan o’ dem 




THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


113 


callin’ de odder a swelled-up robbin’ grab-all dat’s stuck 
to see everybody in dis country but dem dat’s got de 
goods starvin’ t’ deat’ an’ de odder wan tellin’ de first guy 
dat he’s crazy an’ one o’ dem anarchists an’ dat be rights 
he ought to be tailin’ up a red flag wid his pockets full o’ 
dynamite bombs. 

“It keeps me busy round here splittin’ out fights after 
t’ings gets to a stage w’ere a spiel ain’t no good no more. 

An’ it’s got business on 
de bum, too, it an’ de 
coppers closin’ us up 
every night. It used to 
be dat a gang’d get into 
a bar an’ go along an’ 
get mixed up in some 
kind of an everyday argu- 
ment an’ win it er lose 
it an’ buy a drink onct 
in aw’ile. But dis here 
silver an’ gold! W’y, 
der’ll be a couple o’ guys 
in a push start an argu- 
ment about it an’ de 
rest o’ de gang’ll get 
around an’ rubberneck 
an’ give dem a hand now 
an’ agin an’ de hull bunch 
o’ dem look like dey 
have forgot dey was in 
a booze-joint at all. An’ if dere happens to be anodder 
live guy er two agin de bar somew’eres dey ’ll have dem 
rubberneckin’, too. 

"I was t’inkin’ o’ havin’ a guy frame up a sign fer 
me an’ put on it : ‘All dem gold an’ silver talks is barred 



‘MORE’N EVER YOU DID.” 


114 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


in. dis joint.’ It might be a knock to de joint, but I got 
to do somet’in’ purty soon if I don’t want to land in 
Kankakee. W’y, say, here’s wan dat’s on de square; 

“De odder night der’s a big swell-lookin’ guy comes in . 
de joint to get hisself a glass o’ beer an’ w’ile he’s coppin’ 
it in comes annodcr guy. 

“De two o’ dem rubbers at each odder an’ den trow 
out de glad mitt an’ do everyt’ing but hug each odder, 
an’ be de talk dey let loose of I get Joseph dat dey was 
old college chums togedder an’ ain’t had deir lamps- on 
wan annoder in many a moon. 

“Dey go along an’ de hot’ o’ dem wants to talk at 
onct ’bout how dey uster frame up fer each odder in 
college wan way an’ annoder an’ how wan o’ dem stole de 
odder one’s girl an’ dis an’ dat, an’ den dey get down to 
t’ings dat’s cornin’ off nowadays an’ finally wan o’ dem 
springs de silver. 

“Dat settled it. Wan o’ dem was a gold guy an’ de 
odder had a piece of a silver mine out west, an’ o’ course 
de big argument starts. I don’t pay much attention to 
dem fer aw’ile on account o’ bein’ sick o’ listenin’ to dem 
kind o’ talks, an’ I go up in front an’ rubber out in de 
street. De first t’ing I know I hear somet’in’ go zing! 
bang! an’ I tear back in de joint an’ dere’s de two o’ dem 
on de floor. I finally split dem out an* try to square 
t’ings up, but dey was no chance. Bot o’ dem is on der 
dignity an’ after dey brush derselves up a bit wan walks 
out de front door an’ de odder out de side. 

“But de funniest battle we had yet ’bout de gold an’ 
silver come off last night. You know’ dat hobo dat hangs 
around here an’ cleans up an’ wan t’ing an’ anodder fer 
de privilege o’ swingin’ on de lunch an’ de booze onct 
in a w’ile? Well, he’s settin’ in here de odder night w’en 
in comes anodder hobo. Dis hobo’s dere wid five, an’ 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


115 


1 hand him a large one fer it. Der’s a silver an’ gold 
argument goin’ on in de joint at de time, an' it ain’t long 
before dis hobo butts in. 

“Den de reg’lar hobo t’inks dat’s his office to t’row 
de odder hobo out. He goes up an’ hits him on de 
back an’ tells him to screw. De odder hobo, o’ course, 
makes a beef an’ wants to know somet’in’. ‘Wot d’ you 
know ’bout silver an’ gold, anyhow?’ says de reg'lar hobo. 
‘More’ll ever you did,’ says de odder one, an’ de first 
t’ing you know dey was mixed up togedder in de biggest 
argument in de joint. De gang kept dem goin’ fer aw’ile, 
but de odder hobo could outtalk de reg’lar hobo an’ de 
finish was de same as de rest o’ dem — de bot’ o’ dem on 
de floor. De go was a mean one w’ile it lasted, but de 
reg’lar hobo had de odder one cheated a little w’en it 
come to a scrap, an’ I finally had to split dem out to pre- 
vent trouble in de joint. 

“I tell you, on de scjuare. I’m goin’ to do somet'in’ 
round here afore long to flag dem gold an’ silver argu- 
ments er it’ll be me an’ not dem guys ’ll be bughouse. 
Have anodder drink.” 


116 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


^ THE BARKEEP AND THE PUP GET 
ARRESTED. 

^^i^D’YOU t’ink o’ me bein’ pinched fer a 
stick-up guy? Ain’t dat a hot one?’’ 
asked the barkeep the other evening as 
he entered the place and reached under 
the back bar for his white vest. 

“Chances are they had you right at 
that,” remarked the seedy politician. 
“You’re ’round here buyin’ bicycles an’ 
new clo’se an’ everyt’ing. You’re either 
out stickin’ people up er else you’re 
givin’ dat register an awful game 


“You’ll quit crackin’ ’bout dat register er I’ll t’row 
you out o’ de joint,” broke in the barkeep. “You’re doin’ 
purty good to be let stick around here an’ get yer mitts 
in de lunch an’ butt in wid a live one onct in a while. Yes, 
dat’s on de square; we was pinched — me and de pup. 
You know de long guy an’ de short guy dat’s been buttin’ 
into dem stores ’round town wid a cannon in each mitt 
an’ stickin’ up everybody in sight an’ den friskin’ de 
damper an’ makin’ a hot-foot wid de coin? Well, dem’s 
de gazabos dey grabbed us fer. Y’ see, I ain’t workin’ 
de odder evenin’ on account 6’ me mitt not havin’ rounded 
to from de bloomer I made in de road race, an’, not havin’ 
nothin’ to do, me an’ de pup goes out fer a little drill 
round de town. Well, along about ten o’clock in de 



THE BARKEEP STORlES. 


117 


evenin’ we’re standin’ on a street corner listenin’ to a guy 
spielin’ dat was sellin’ somet’in’ dat he said ’d cure a guy 
of anyt’ing he ever heard of, w’en I get a peek at a big 
guy standin’ 'bout ten foot away an’ rubberin’ at us like 
we was a couple o’ freaks dat had broke out of a dime 
museum. 



“ ‘De way dat guy is 

t’rowin’ his lamps at 

us,’ I says to de pup, 

‘ ’ud make a guy t’ink 

he was a copper. He 

might be an elbow at 

dat, but if he is he’s a 

new one to me.’ Just 

den I makes him. He’s 

a big bull dat stands 

wid de harness on all 

day at one o’ dem 

street crossin’s an’ 

keeps de truck horses 

an’ cable cars from 

runnin’ over people. 

Den I remembers 

’bout a guy tellin’ me 

dat dey was turnin’ all 

de bulls downtown 
“DEY T’OUGIIT WE WAS DE LONG . . . , , , 

GUY AN’ DE SHORT GUY.” I H t O Cltlzeil S - Clo Se 

guys ev’ry night an’ 
makin’ dem drill round town an’ look fer stick-up guys 
an’ burglars. Y' see, dis long guy an’ dis short guy has 
got de main bulls over to de Central near daffy on ac- 
count o’ gettin’ away wid everyt'ing dey’ve went after so 
fur an’ dey’d purty near give der right eye if dey could 


snatch dem. 


118 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


"Well, I’m telHn’ de pup who de big guy is an' den o’ 
course he has to start in an’ kid him. ‘Say, pal,’ he says 
to me, crackin’ so’s de big bull kin hear him. ‘we got to 
go over on de nort’ side to-morrow night an’ stick up 
dat joint dat I showed you. Der ain’t nothin’ short of a 
• century in de damper an’ a little bit of a girl fer de cashier 
dat looks like she’d croak sure if ever a guy trim a gat’ 
into her mug. De gazabo dat owns de joint is a dyin’- 
lookin’ guy an’ de chances arc he’ll be willin’ t’ let us take 
all he’s got in his joint out w’en he gets a flash o’ dat noo 
cannon I got. De getaway is swell, too. De joint is right 
nex’ to an alley dat a guy’d have his own troubles findin’ 
his way t’roo in de daylight an’ we can be over on de 
odder street an’ on a rattler afore dey get rightly next 
dat dey been stuck up.’ By dis time de big bull is up 
’bout six foot from us an’ I see dat de pup has got us into 
a jam by his kiddin’, fer it’s a brewery to a can o’ beer 
dat de bull ’ll grab us after de spiel he made. I kick him 
in de shins t’ chop, but he never paid no ’tention t’ me 
an’ says, ‘Say, remind me in de mornin’ t’ git some more 
o’ dat grease-paint. I’m all out an’ we got t’ have it. I’ll 
fix meself up dis time right. De gazabo we’re goin’ after 
over dere ’ll t’ink dat a guy wid de smallpox has broke 
into his joint. I’m gettin’ now so’s I make a reg’lar actor 
look like a dog w’en it comes to paintin’ pimples on me 
face.’ 

“Well, den it was all off an’ no kid. De big bull jumped 
fer us like a hungry hobo fer a hand-out. He gets a half- 
Nelson on de pup an’ near tears me coat off makin’ sure 
he has a good holt on me. I’m afraid to bat me eye, fer 
I know he’s liable to cut loose wid his forty-four if eider 
one of us makes a wrong move, t’inkin’ he’s got a couple 
o’ desperate men, an’ de pup he was scared t’ deaf. De 
bull drags us over f de station an’ I was leery dat he’d 


I 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


119 


t’rov/ us down in de booby-liatch an’ not give us no chance 
to get out dat night, but he marches us in to de main bull. 
De pup t’ought sure he was goin’ over de road fer de 
balance of his life, but I hnowed dat everyt'ing was all 
right, fer I was ’quainted wid near all dem coppers on 
’count o’ dem'droppin’ in de joint onct in a while an^. 
swingin’ on me fer booze an’ one t’ing anodder. 

“Well, to cut it short, der was nottin’ to it in de sta- 
tion. De main bull knowed me an’ I tells him how de 
play come up an’ he turns us loose. You couldn't blame 
de big bull at dat, an’ I’ll declare meself right now — an’ 
it goes, too — dat from dis time on me an’ de pup is split 
out an’ dat’s all der is to it. He goes fer anybody dat 
wants him. He kin rib up more trouble fer a guy in ten 
minutes den you kin square in six months. Come on an’ 
have a drink.” 


120 


'the barkeep stories. 


SLIVER AND HIS PAL DISCUSS THE SITU- 
ATION. 

|/^ SLIVER, how is it?” asked one young 
man of another, as they met at Dear- 
born and Monroe streets the other 
evening. 

“Rotten!” responded the one ad- 
dressed. “I ain't had a guy down hi a 
week.” 

“De doose y’ say ! Is it as tougli 
as dat?” 

“Tough? I should say it was tough! 
It used to be softer to get hold of a 
dollar w’en a sucker had to go troo a blizzard in de middle 
o’ winter t’ git to de race track than it is now wid de sun 
on bot’ sides o’ de boulevard an’ now’eres else fer a mark 
to go. Where’d you come from? Just get to town?'’ 

“Yes. Been down 'to Saint Loois. A guy’s got as 
much chance of gettin’ hold of any coin down there as a 
straw top-piece had in de cyclone. Ain’t you got no 
silver at all?” 

“I got enough to buy two beers.” 

“That’s piirty good. You got me beat to death. Come 
on. I’ll steer you w’ere they got them poor ones.” 

From the foregoing conversation the listener came to 
the conclusion that the speakers were race-track “touts.” 

A few minutes later the two young men were in a base- 




THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


121 



ment resort where the beer to be had for a nickel is gen- 
erous as- to quantity. 

“Say,” said the one who said he had come from St. 
Louis, “between me an’ you Pm bio wed if I don’t think 
de graft’s done. Everybody’s educated, dat’s all ther' is 
to it, an’ suckers is as scarce as porterhouse steaks in a 
tough winter.” 

“Naw, dat ain’t it,” said the other. “I tell you dey ain't 

nobody got nottin’. 
Dere’s just as many 
suckers as ever ther’ 
was, but a guy’d need 
de X rays wid him to 
locate as much as 
twenty case in one 
bunch on any one 
mark’s kick. You kin 
grab just as many 
suckers as ever you 
did, but a $2 note 
looks as big to one 
o’ dem now as two 
hundred used to t’ree 
er four years ago. 
W’y, a guy couldn’t 

“DEY AIN’T NOBODY GOT NOT- bcttin 

TIN’, SEE?’’ ring * wid his mitt full 

o’ twenty-dollar gold pieces an’ sell dem fer nineteen 
dollars apiece.” 

“ ’Tain’t only dat, but Pm tellin’ you everybody’s gettin’ 
too wise,” declared the man from St. Louis. “W’y, a 
sucker goes out dere nowadays fer as much as two weeks 
altogedder, blows his coin, an’ from that time on he’s a 
tout. \\“y, them touts around the race tracks is toutin’ 


122 


THE BARKEEP STORIES.- 


each other these days. An’ as fur as tryin’ to get a live 
guy down! W'y, a guy’d have his own troubles gettin’ a 
mark to take a French dat George Washington was dead. 
Don’t talk to me! I tell you they’re all gettin’ too wise, 
an’ dat’s all ther’ is to it. Every time you go at one wid 
de spiel he freezes up an’ looks at you like he thought 
you was goin’ to pick his pocket.” 

“Well, mebbe dey’re gettiiF wise, I dunno,” said Sliver. 
"Wotever it is, I know a hull lot o’ guys dat'd have t’ 
pick out some new graft fer demselves purty soon. De 
nearest I come to havin’ any coin in a week was to-day. 
You know that 3 to 5 trick in the third race? Well, wot 
d’ you think of a guy that’d stand a tap on that one fer 
his own coin? Ye«, that’s wot I did. 1 get a five-case 
note fer my part after the first race an’ beat th’ one that 
win de second, an’ then if I don’t get crazy an’ bet the 
works on the lead-pipe trick in the third I hope to be 
barred off de track to-morrow. 

“I t’ought it was like findin’ a little beer money, see? 
I must be gettin’ an idea in me nut dat I know somet’in’ 
about dem horses — ] ’IP want to be a regular plunger de 
first t’ing I know. But I see you’re dere wid yer sum- 
mer front. You got me cheated. Straw lid an’ every t’ing, 
huh?” 

“Yes, but I wouldn’t ’a’ had dat if I don’t get busy in 
de-car cornin’ up. Well, I got to blow you now. You’re 
a lobster an’ I do, know a guy dat I used to be able to 
rib up an’ take out once in a while. I’m goin’ over t’ 
drop in on him now an’ tell him I just got in from ’Frisco 
wid a string o’ horses. So long!” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


123 


THE BARKEEP VISITS THE ST. LOUIS 
CONVENTION. 



you? 


DAT? W’ere was I? W’ere d’ you 
s’pose all us swell politicians was dis 
week?” asked the barkeep a night or 
two after the St. Louis convention in 
answer to a shower of questions, as he 
entered the place and deposited a grip 
back of the bar. 

“Down to Saint Loois, o’ course! 
You don’t Pink I could leave dem pick 
out a guy t’ run fer President widoutme 
bein’ dere t’ rubber at dem anyhow, do 
I’ll tell you how it was. You remember dat Mug- 
gins dat used t’ be ’round here — dat bum prize-fighter? 
Well, he ain’t nottin’ but de hull t’ing in New York now. 
He’s de head gazabo in a political club an’ I b’lieve dey’re 
goin’ t’ run him fer alderman from de Bowery de nex’ 
’lection. 

“Well, him an’ t’ree er four more o’ dem New York 
guys was on der way to Saint Loois last Monday an’ 
Muggins makes de bunch o’ dem lay over here an’ drop 
in an’ see me. De finish o’ de visit was dat nottin’ ’ud 
do but dey must join me out an’ drag me down t’ Saint 
Loois wid dem. Dey got me full o’ de white stuff er I’d 
’a’ balked at dat. 

“Well, down we go, an’ say. I’ll tell you right now, dat 
politics — dere’s a game dat’s got all de rest o’ dem beat 


124 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 



t’ deaf. You talk ’bout dcm guys t’rowin’ de bull dat's 
’round sellin’ gold bricks an’ green goods fer a livin’ er 
trimmin’ a mark anyway dey kin land him! Say, I see 
guys in dat bunch o’ politicians dat was down dere dat 
just made everybody I ever see before look like a sellin’- 
platcr w’en it come to dealin’ de bunk widout no trim- 

min’s on it. Dem poli- 
ticians kin do more 
j o b b i n ’ an’ double- 
crossin’ an’ playin’ bot’ 
ends agin de middle in 
a half a day den a 
bunch o’ trottin’-horse 
guys at a county fair 
kin in t’irty years. 

“Oh, dey’re bully, 
an’ it ain’t no kid! 
Dere’ll be one o’ dem 
guys from de country 
balk about somet’in’ 
down dere, y’ under- 
stan’, an’ den one o’ 
dem head politicians 
dat’s a swell at his busi- 
ness ’ll grab him, drag 
him over in de corner, 
t’row dat rush jolly 
into him, hand him a 
couple o’ hot-backs, and round him to so quick dat it’d 
make a guy dat was steerin’ fer de big mitt's head swim. 
If I could t’row a spiel like dem guys I’d be round buyin’ 
booze all de time instead o’ sellin’ it. 

“I ain’t nottin’ only a race-horse guy w’en I’m down 
dere, too. 


MUGGINS RETURNS. 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


125 


“Tell you de trut’, I t’ink I got de pup er near any 
one else cheated w’en it comes to puttin’ a mark down 
right. Y’ see, me an’ Muggins is drillin’ down de street 
de nex’ night after I get dere w’en we see a guy dat 
looked as if he just come from tailin’ up a plow spielin’ 
to a bunch o’ guys in a joint ’bout how der hadn’t oughter 
be nottin’ else made only silver money. Muggins gets 
his lamps on him an’ butts in wid de gang right off de 
jump. 

“He leaves de old guy go ’long an’ spiel a while an’ 
den he t’rows him de glad-hand, drags him over to de 
bar, tells him he’s a delegate from New York, an’ dat he 
never did hear such a swell spiel on de gold an’ silver 
. argument afore in his life. ‘De most o’ de guys from 
New York is fer gold,’ he says, ‘but I’m blowed if I don’t 
vote fer de silver after de talk you just made.’ 

“Well, you never see a guy warm up in your life like 
dat gazabo wid de w’iskers. Muggins could ’a bor- 
ried all de change he had widout no trouble at all, but 
I see dat he’s framin’ him up fer somet’in’ else. De mark 
tells us dat he’s de cousin o’ some big guy among de poli- 
ticians from out in de mountains somew’eres, an’ den 
Muggins gives me de office an’ I go over an’ Muggins 
tells de guy dat I’m a horse owner from Chicago. I tells 
de guy dat I got a part o’ a couple o’ silver mines out west 
an’ de first t’ing you know me an’ him is pals an’ we’re 
denouncin’ dem bankers from Wall street fer a bunch o’ 
murderin’ robbers. 

“Muggins kicks me in de shins to chop de money argu- 
ment, fer h.e knowed I’d be out in de deep in a minute, 
an’ den I tell de guy dat I come down to Saint Loois to 
start a trick at de fair grounds an’ dat der was no way 
fer me to lose. 

“O’ course de mark wants me to tip it off to him, an’ 


126 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


it was soft* to frame it up an’ take him out de nex’ day. 
i sees a guy out to de track dat I knowed an’ he tells 
me one dat he t’ought had a chance, an’ I puts Mr. Silver 
Guy down to it staunch an’ true. 

“If 1 don’t pick a winner fer him I hope dey’ll take me 
license away to-morrow, an’ me an’ Muggins has plenty 
o’ money de balance o’ de week. You can’t never tell 
'bout dem guys. W’en I first see him I didn’t t’ink dey 
was no more chance fer him to let loose of a ten-cent piece 
den dey was fer me t’ jump over de Soudern Hotel.’’ 

“Well, you ain't told us who yer were wit’ yet — de gold 
guys er de silver guys?” asked the seedy politician. 

“I don’t know nottin’ 'bout dis gold money er dis silver 
money,” responded the barkeep, as he tied on his apron. 
“I’m fer easy money. Dat’s good enough fer me.” 


I 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 127 


THE BARKEEP THINKS HE HAS “THE 
SNAKES.” 


YOU ever see a cat vvid a fit?” asked 
the barkeep of the copper on the beat 
the other morning about the time the 
rattle of the milk wagons was begin- 
ning to be heard on the street. 

“Sure Oi seen a cat wid a fit. Yis, 
Oi'll have a little drop o’ liquor. Phwat 
was y’ askin’ me fur — hav yez a cat 
round here wid de fits?” 

“I had wan here de odder mornin’ 
wid de fits good an’ plenty,’’ replied the 
barkeep, “but it had me out in de deep fer a long time 
tryin’ t’ find out whedder it was a cat wid de fits er me 
wid de snakes. 

“I never had de Brooklyn boys in me life, but der was 
one stage durin’ dis play de odder night dat I was makin’ 
book wid meself an’ not willin’ to lay more’n wan to free 
dat I hadn’t finally landed on a bunch o’ de blue monkeys. 

“Y’ see, it was like dis. De odder mornin’ der ain’t a 
guy in de joint but meself, an’ I’m sittin’ over agin de wall 
tryin’ f sleep off a bunch o’ booze dat I had been t’rowin’ 
into me all night along wid a few o’ me p’litical fren’s dat 
was visitin’ me. 

“I have a chair ag’in de front door an’ de key o’ de 
register in me kick an’ I’m just to a stage wid de booze 
w’ere I’d ’a’ climbed up de bar fixtures if I’d ’a’ seen a 



128 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 



rat peekin’ at me anyw'eres, but at de same time I’d ’a’ 
give de long guy an’ de short guy a game if dey’d ’a’ 
walked into de joint wid a forty-four in each mitt an’ der 
pockets full o’ dynamite bombs. 

“I t’ink I must ’a’ went t’ sleep, fer I wake up all of a 

suddent bearin’ a sort 
of scratchin’ noise 
over in de middle o’ 
de floor. 

“I rubber over 
dere an’ I see some- 
t’n’ turnin’ summer- 
saults an’ hand- 
springs an’ head-spins 
an’ doin’ all kind o’ 
ground an’ lofty tum- 
blin’, as I Lister .say 
w'en I was de spieler 
wid a cross - roads 
show. De joint is 
kinder dark an’ I 
don’t know whedder 
d t’ing is a cat er a 
dog er a jack-rabbit 
er wot. De bloomin’ 
t’ing never so much 
as let out a squeak 
loud enough to dis- 
turb a canary bird, 
an’ on de square I was scared t’ deaf. Finally de fing 
qi.its t’rowin’ flip-flops an’ it tears acrost de floor an’ lands 
ag'in de ice-box like it’s tryin’ to jump froo it. Den it 
starts in ag’in doin’ de highland fling wid a bit o’ knock- 
about tumblin’ trim in. Be dis time I’m oa me feet an’ 


“WIT’ A BOTTLE AN’ DE ICE-PICK.” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


129 


de sweat is pourin’ off me like I was in a shower bat’. 
Den de t’ing starts tearin’ acrost de floor again. Dis 
time it comes straight fer me chair, but be de time it 
got to it I’m up on top o’ de bar wid a bottle in wan mitt 
an’ de ice-pick in de odder an’ willin’ to sign de pledge 
t’ drink nottin’ but sody water de balance o’ me life. 

“Y’ see, de bloomin’ t’ing tore round de joint fer ten 
minutes an’ tipped over a couple o’ chairs an’ run up 
ag’in de bar an’ de wall like it was tryin’ t’ beat its brains 
out widout never once lettin’ go of a squawk dat ’d put 
a guy wise to wot it is an’ I t’ought sure I was finally dere 
wid de snakes. I was willin’ t’ hand any guy a ten-case 
note dat ’d come in de joint an’ tell me he seen de same 
t’ing dat I did. Well, I t’rows near all de bottles dat 1 
kin reach from de top o’ de bar at de t’ing widout doin’ 
nottin’ more den waste a few gallons o’ booze an’ lemon 
juice an’ ginger ale an’ one t’ing annoder, an’ I was to a 
stage w’ere I was startin’ t’ take to de woods an’ leave de 
joint to de cat er wotever it w'as I seen w’en de front 
door opens an’ me fren’ de pup starts to come in. De cat 
starts fer de street at de same time. 

“De pup sees it cornin’, an’, on de square, I b’lieve he 
jumped six foot in de air, lettin’ it go under him. Den 
de pup gets his lamps on me up on de bar wid de ice-pick 
an’ a beer mallet an’ he starts out o’ de joint like he 
t’ought he had broke into a madhouse. 

“Say, dis ain’t no kid, right den was the happiest min- 
ute o’ me life since de time dey let me out o’ jail after dey 
had trun me in fer robbin’ a pie wagon w’en I was a kid. 

I seen dat de pup had see de same t’ing I see. an’ I runs 
out on de street, ketches him, drags him back, and fer- 
gives him anyt’ing he ever done to me an’ even stands fer 
it w’en he swung on me fer a case note. 

“De pup says it was a cat run under him w’en he come 


130 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


in de joint an’ I took his word fer it. De nex' time I’m 
boozed on de late watch I’m goin’ to hire a guy t’ stick 
’round de joint wid me. I wouldn’t take annoder chance 
o’ goin’ daffy like dat fer a century note, an’ I ain’t got 
t’irty cents.” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


131 


THE BARKEEP THINKS HE LOOKS LIKE 
A “MARK.” 



' ^TELL me somet’in’. On de square, do 
look like a sucker?” 

The barkeep removed a cigar from 
his mouth as he asked the above ques- 
tion the other evening and gazed anxi- 
ously at the talent assembled in the 
place. 

Grins of various proportions greeted 
the remark, and the seedy politician fin- 
ally ventured: “What's the matter? 
What makes you think you look like a 
sucker? Somebody been handing you a little o’ the bunco 
again?” 

“Been handin’ it to me again! Dey don’t never stop 
handin’ it to me — er tryin’ to hand it to me. Dat’s wot’s 
de matter.” 

Here the barkeep turned and surveyed himself long 
and carefully in the mirror. 

“I had an idea in me nut, on de level, dat I was a 
kind o’ half-wise-lookin’ guy, anyhow,” he said, “but from 
de way dey’re cornin’ at me dere must be somet’in’ about 
me mug dat’d make a guy t’ink he could turn me near 
any way he went after me. I been gettin’ it so many 
ways dat I t’ink I’ll have me folks fix de pockets o’ me 
jeans so dey’ll button up, fer fear dat I do stand fer a 
real hot one wan o’ dem days an’ start t’ dig down in me 
kick fer de goods, 


132 


THE.BARKEEP STORIES. 


“On cle square, dey been handin’ me so many different 
kinds o’ de bull con lately dat it’s got me near daffy 
watchin’ meself dat I don’t fall again none of it an’ 
let loose of any silver. I dunno whedder it’s be- 
cause I naturally look like an easy mark er whedder de 
game’s gettin’ so tough dat dem guys dat can’t get a 
livin’ no odder way only by dealin’ de bunk fer it has 
got to swing on everybody dey butts into widout playin’ 
no favorites. Dey got 
me so dat every time 
a guy comes in an’ 
starts to let loose of a 
spiel dat sounds like 
he’s tryin’ to frame me 
up I feel like hittin’ him 
a wallop in de jaw to 
stop de argument right 
off de reel. It takes 
too long t’ tell dem 
guys dey’re on a lobs- 
ter. But I know dat 
it wouldn’t hardly do 
to be handin’ anybody 
a beatin’ round here dat 
didn’t have it cornin’ to him. It’d be a case o’ me an’ dem 
guys over to de city hall takin’ holts an’ it’s tough enough 
right now fer a guy dat’s runnin’ a booze joint t’ get any 
favors handed to him widout takin’ no chance o’ puttin’ 
hisself in bad repute be givin’ de coppers de idea dat 
he’s runnin’ a rough house. I got to win about a fight 
a night rqund here de way it is to keep up me reputa- 
tion, er else dey’d be a few guys droppin’ in here every 
evenin’ an’ wantin’ to run de joint. 

“W’y, I go out to de race track dc odder day to put 



“DO I LOOK LIKE A SUCKER?” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


133 


down a little change on wan dat I t’ought come to me 
purty near right, an’, on de square, der must a’ been 
t’irty touts get to me an’ start off wid de spiel afore I’m 
on de track a half an hour. I’m framed up to kick de nex’ 
guy in de shins dat cracks to me, fer y’see, it’s got me 
near nutty t’inkin’ wot a rummy-lookin’ mark I must be 
anyhow, w’en somebody comes up behin’ me, puts his 
mitt on me shoulder an’ cracks into me ear somet’in’ 
like dis: ‘Say, me fren’, kin you keep a secret? Step 
dis way!’ 

“I never rubber to see who it is at all, but I just come 
back wid de right mitt an’ cop de guy a mean one below 
de belt. He leaves a roar out o’ him dat near caused 
a riot in de bettin’ ring, an’ den I rubbers an’ it ain’t no- 
body but de pup. He’s layin’ on de floor huggin’ hisself 
an’ der’s t’irty bulls got me in a minute an’ goin’ t’ t’row 
me oft’n de track. De pup comes to in time t’ flag de bulls 
an’ tell dem it’s an accident, but I thought fer a minute 
be de way he’d blowed his wind dat he was willin’ t’ 
leave dem go t’roo wid it an’ roust me sure’ nuff. Me 
an’ de pup goes along pals togedder after dat an’ dey 
wasn’t nobody boddered me no more, I don’t know 
whedder de rest o’ dem touts t’ought de pup had landed 
me er whedder dey t’ought I was a right guy on ’count 
o’ bein’ mix^d up wid him. 

“An’ de finish come w’en I blows back to town in de 
evenin’ an’ finds wan o’ dem papers dat tells me I got 
to go over an’ serve on de jury. Wot d’ you t’ink o’ dat? 
Me on de jury! I’d be a hot one on a jury, hey? Wot’s 
dat? How’ll I square meself? I’ll declare meself to de 
judge, dat’s all. I’ll tell him dat I never was down be- 
low meself on ’count o’ bein’ a square guy all me life, 
but dat I know a few o’ me fr’ens dat was over de road 
an’ I’ll crack to him like dis; ‘Mr. Judge,’ I’ll say, ‘I 


134 


tHE BARKEEP STORIES. 


never was landed meself, but I wouldn’t send a guy to de 
stir if he was to croak t’irty people.* I guess de judge’ll 
turn me loose wid dat kind of a spiel, hey? 

“On de level, I’m goin’ to get me a button like dem 
1 6 to I guys wears, an’ I’m goin’ to have wrote on it 
somet’in’ like dis: ‘I won’t stand fer none o’ de bull con, 
no matter wot way you hand it to me.’ I’m goin’ to 
flash dat button to all dem guys dat comes in tryin’ t’ 
swing on me wan way an’ anodder from dis time on, 
an’ see if it won’t flag dem afore dey go any furder. • If 
I don’t do somet’in’ I’ll be in de bughouse. Come on an’ 
have a drink anyhow. I know yer all dead.” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


135 


THE PUP GIVES THE BARKEEP THE 
“MARBLE HEART.” 

ftJI ^ BARKEEP was evidently not in the 
^ best of humor. Something weighed 

heavily on his mind and the gang 
around the place was anxiously wait- 
ing for him to give vent to his pent-up 
feelings. He paced up and down be- 
hind the bar and savagely chewed on 
the end of a cigar. 

Finally he could stand the pressure 
no longer and, waving the talent up 
to the bar, he slid the glasses along, 
brought up the policeman’s bottle, and remarked: “Wot 
d’ you t’ink o’ dat guy, dat pup — ain’t he bully?’’ 

“Wot’s de matteF wid de pup now?’’ asked the seedy 
politicia'n. “I t’ought you an’ him was pals togedder 
since he saved you from havin’ de snakes?’’ 

“Pals! Say, dere’s a guy, dat pup, dat’ll lead me to 
commit murder some day, an’ he’s de gazabo ’ll get 
croaked. 

“Y’ see, it’s dis way. You know de day after he comes 
in de door w’en I t’ought I was dere wid de snakes? Well, 
he don’t do nottin’ only come in an’ swing on me fer a 
two-case note so’s he kin get on dat boat an’ go up to 
Milwaukee de next day, w’ere dey was goin’ to run de 
Derby. Wot do you t’ink o’ dat? I guess Fd do right 
well handin’ dem guys two-case notes ’round here. An’ 



136 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


cle way he comes at me fer it — w’y you’d t’ink I owed him 
t’ree t’otisan’ dollars fer cornin’ in de joint an’ scarin’ dat 
cat out. I do stand fer it w’en he swings on me fer a 
single de night before, like a sucker, but dat was just w'en 
I was roundin’ to from bein’ near daffy on account o’ 

t’inkin’I had de Brook- 
lyn boys. Well, he’s 
de sorest guy on top o’ 
eart’ w’en I tells him 
dat an empty up near 
de head end was purty 
good fer him to go to 
Milwaukee in, an’ de 
finish o’ de argument 
was dat I’d ’a trim him 
out o’ de -joint if he 
hadn’t beat me to de 
door. 

‘‘Well, last night I’m 
in here an’ it’s hotter 
den a Turkish bat’ 
house an’ I’m chokin’ 
t’ deat’. I’m afraid to 
^buy meself a drink on 
’count o’ bein’ leary o’ 
gettin’ into bad habits. 
“Well, just den up 
“I GOT DE GOODS.” drives a swell lookin’ 

carriage wid a guy wid 
a pair o’ white pants on up in front drivin’, 

“ ‘Dis must be a live one, sure,’ I says to meself, an’ 
I’m tryin’ t’ t’ink who de guy kin be dat’d drop around 
to dis joint wid a front like dat w’en the door o’ de rig 
opens an’ out steps de pup. 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


137 


“He’s all ablaze wicl a new front from sody to hock, an’ 
he cert’hly did look like he has all de coarse notes. He 
comes into de joint like he had de handlin’ o’ half de votes 
in de democratic convention an’ walks up to de bar an’ 
cracks like dis: ‘Hey, barboy! Step dis way wid a bottle 
o’ wine an’ don’t keep me waitin’.’ I looks at him, t’inkin’ 
he’s kiddin’, but he never bats his eye, an’ a guy’d t’ink he 
never see de joint before. Well, I see dat he’s dere wid 
a super an’ I takes a chance an’ hands him de wine, fram- 
in’ everyt’ing up in case I have to do a hot foot after him 
fer de coin. 

“I cert’nly t’ought he was goin’ to ask me to split de 
bottle wid him, but he never notices me no more den I 
was a dog an’ starts in to clean it up single-handed. Den 
I get kinder sore an’ I got it all framed up how I’m goin’ 
to just trow any kind of a note in de register dat he lays 
down an’ ring it up, but all he comes in sight wid is a 
deuce. 

“All de time he’s rubberin’ round de joint like dem 
swell guys does, an’ he finally cleans up de wine an’ says : 
‘Barboy, kin you inform me w’ich way is de Auditorium 
Hotel?” 

“ ‘I’ll inform you if you don’t hand me dat change you 
owe me dat you won’t be able t’ recognize de Auditorium 
w’en you do see it,’ I says to him, but dat never feazed 
him at all. 

“I’m sucker enough to let him edge over near de door, 
an’ den he drags out a bunch o’ coin dat’d choke a steer 
and cracks like dis: ‘Me fren’, use a little judgment w’en 
yer talkin’ to a man wid money. I got de goods, d’ you 
understan’? But it’s all in coarse currency an’ I’m kinder 
scared t’ change it. Dis looks to me like a rough house,’ 
an’ den he blows. 


138 


_•'■•• f.' -"; •,. >^ ■■ ■. , ■ •, 

THE BARKEEP STORIES. ' 


“Wot d’ you t’ink o’ dat? It’ll be me an’ dat guy to de 
floor some day an’ it’s Joe Patchen to a truck" horse dat 
de grand jury’ll have to settle de case w’en I’m t’roo vvid 


THE BARKEEP STORlES. 




THE BARKEEP MEETS A ERIEND IN NEED. 



I LOOKS to me like I was agin de nuts 
wotever way I make a move,” re- 
marked the barkeep the other evening 
to a race-track friend wdio had dropped 
in. “Was you ever dat way?” 

“Yes, I’m that way right now. I’m 
up against' a bum streak o’ luck, so 
strong that it’s enough to make a guy 
quit hustlin’ an’ go to drivin’ a truck 
fer a livin’. I start off to-dajr wit’ one 
up me sleeve that’s a pipe in the first 
race an’ I couldn’t find a guy to put to it wit’ counterfeit 
money. 

“The next race I get t’ree out of the five played an’ 

wasn’t one-two wit’ a one o’ deni. An’ den ” 

“Now nix. I can’t stand fer none o’ dem race-horse 
hoodoo tales, fer I know de most o’ dem is stem-stories. 

I mean bein’ agin a Jonah on de square. I got so lately 
dat I’m afraid to bat me eye at night fer fear dat some- 
body’ll git to de damper, an’ every time I go out on de 
street I got one lamp up in de air so dat a chimney er 
somethin’ won’t fall on me an’ de odder seein’ dat I don’t 
get-dnto no jam wid a mob o’ dips. On de square. I’m 
gettin’ as leary as wan o’ dem guys wid de w’iskers dats 
down to St. Loois tellin’ each odder how de country 
oughter be run, is w’en he gets his lamps on a striped 
shirt an’ a checkered pair o’ pants. Dey been rubberin’ 


140 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


in de picter-papers so long dat dey t’ink dat anybody wid 
dat make-up is dere wid a gold brick in wan mitt an a 
bunch o’ green-goods in de odder. 

“I ain’t had no luck since de guy handed me de bunk 
fer me mush an’ me rain-coat. I’m out ridin’ me bicycle 
last night, an’, on de square, I was scared to go faster’n 
a dog kin trot fer fear I’d run over a toot’-pick er some- 
tin’ an’ break me face agin de street. I do finally get a 
couple o’ spokes broke be lettin’ wan o’ dem scorchers 

run into me. I have 
to hand a guy in a re- 
pairin’ joint a four-bit 
piece to fix dem up, 
but I'll bet de odder 
guy had to hand a 
doctor a five-case 
note to cure up de 
bum lamp I handed 
him just to show him 
dat I was a gentleman. 
After I’m framed up 
again I start off ridin’ 
t’roo de park, w’en I 
see wan o’ dem spar- 
row cops tearin’ acrost 
'de grass wid his club in his mitt an’ roarin’ like a mad . 
bull. 

“I rubber, o’ course, to see wot he’s after, an’ turn 
me w’eel in de same direction so’s to see de pinch w’en 
it comes off, an’ den Mr. Cop roars all de worse. Dat 
scares up two er t’ree more bulls out o’ de bushes, an’ de 
hull bunch o’ dem lams over to w’ere I’m ridin’, like I 
was de long guy an’ de short guy hot’ togedder. Dey 
grab me off’n me w’eel an’ after dey ketch der wind I 




THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


141 


get it t’roo me nut dat I’m pinched on account o’ me glim 
bein’ out. 

“De guy in de repairin’ joint put de glim out w’en he 
was fixin’ de spokes, an’ I ain’t got nut enough on me to 
t’ink to light it up again. 

“Well, de bulls tells me to be over to de court in de 
mornin’ an’ drag a little coin wid me to pay me fine, an’ 
den dey just grab de w’eel so’s I’ll be sure to show up. 
Dat’s de new rules, dey tell me, an’ I guess it’s better den 
gettin’ t’run in de boobyhatch at dat. Well, dere I am, 
an’ de only t’ing I see to do is to go over an’ grab a rat- 
tler fer downtown an’ den look in de dream-book an’ 
see if I can’t do somethin’ to change me luck. 

“I start over to w’ere I kin get a rattler an’ w’ile Pm 
waitin’ fer wan to show I drop into a joint on de corner 
an’ get a glass o’ beer fer meself. 

“Dere’s a big guy back o’ de bar an’ he rubbers at me 
awful strong. I kinder t’ought I knowed his face at dat, 
but I’m de poorest guy in de world to remember a mon- 
aker an’ so I didn’t crack nottin’ to him. After I cop me 
beer I step to de cigar-case in front an’ get a rope. I 
light de rope an’ den I dig down in me jeans fer de 
change I owe him. I go into one kick an’ den de odder, 
an’ I fall to it all of a suddent dat I didn’t take no coin 
out o’ me pants w’en I put on me bicycle suit. I frisk 
meself good so’s to be sure I ain’t dere an’ all de time de 
big guy is rubberin’ at me like he was willin’ to jump 
over de bar an’ go at me wid no holts barred if I didn’t 
come to a flash with a little silver purty soon. I finally 
crack to him an’ tell him how it is. Well, he don’t bat 
his eye, but just starts out around de end o’ de cigar 
counter. 

“I don’t know whedder to give him a battle er a foot 
race until I get a peek at his feet, an’ den it was off. ' 


142 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


had on a pair o’ shoes dat’d weigh ten pound apiece, an’ 
I see dat I don’t want no dealin’s wid him in no go-as- 
you-please mix-up. I starts to tear out o’ de joint, but 
de big guy hollers: ‘Wot’s de matter wid you — are you 
crazy? Don’t you know me?’ I stops an’ rubbers at de 
guy an’ he comes an’ grabs me be de mitt an’ cracks: 
‘You don’t know me no more since I was on de force, 
huh ?’ 

“Den I fall to it dat’s he’s a bull dat uster be on de beat 
w’ere I was tendin’ bar ’bout t’ree years ago an’ got t’run 
off der force fer bein’ ketched sleepin’ in de alley, I 
never see him afore widout de harness on, an’ dat’s w’y I 
ain’t Joseph to him, ‘W’y, ol’ pal,’ he says, ‘you handed 
me a many a booze afore dis along in de mornin’s w’en 
I’d be chokin’ to deat’, an’ you kin go as fur as you 
wanter wid me wid er widout de price.’ 

“Well, t’ cut it short, I find out dat he’s de hull t’ing 
out in his end o’ town since he opened up de booze-joint, 
an’ I tell him ’bout bein’ pinched an’ he tells me he’ll 
square it wid de judge in de mornin’. Dat’s de first 
piece o’ good luck I run up again since de pup gimme de 
marble heart w’en he was dere wid dat bunch o’ coin, an’ 
I b’lieve de hoodoo is broke. Me an’ de ex-bull come 
near gettin’ drunk togedder, an’ he even wants me to 
go to slingin’ beer fer him. But not fer me. Dem way- 
out joints goes fer dem dat t’ink well o’ dem. Dis here 
drum is good enough fer me.” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


•143 


THE BARKEEP GOES SWIMMING. 




COME you an’ de pup to make up 
again?” asked the seedy politician of 
the barkeep the other morning after 
things had quieted down and even the 
regular members had begun to yawn 
and think about going home. “I see 
you an’ him talkin’ togedder de other 
evenin’ like you had been pals all yer 
life.” 


— “Oh, de pup ain’t no bad feller w’en 

you come to know him right. All he 
needs is a kick in de shins onct in a w’ile to keep him 
from ribbin’ up trouble an’ a wallop back o’ de ear now 
an’ again to make him quit t’inkin’ he’s all de loose 
change an’ he’ll go along purty good. 

“I’ve had de wrong system wid dat guy. I been usin’ 
him too well. He’s wan o’ dem guys dat needs to be 
abused to be kep’ in line,” and the barkeep helped him- 
self from a bottle he brought up from under the back bar 
and handed the seedy politician a glass of beer. 

“Y’see, I’m out to de beach las’ Sunday wid a fren’ o’ 
mine. Me an’ him goes out dere fer a ride on de lake, 
an’ w’en we get out dere an’ get a peek at dem guys in 
sw'immin’ we kinder get de itch to be wid dem an’ get to 
t’inkin’ o’ de time w’en we uster give wan kid de job o’ 
watchin’ fer de coppers w’ile de rest o’ us was seein’ 
w’ich^was de champion diver down along de docks. 


144 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


“Well, he finally bluffs me to get a suit an’ go in de 
water, an’ I call him an’ in we go. I go along fer aw’ile 
findin’ out wot I’d forgot about swimmin’ an’ kiddin’ 
along de same as everybody else; an’ I finally butt into 
a football game dey was playin’ in de water. I get me 
mitts on de ball onct an’ den o’ course der’s t’irty guys 
grab me to make me let loose of it. I’m willin’ to let 
loose, but we was all in a jam togedder wid de ball in 
de middle of de bunch, an’ I ain’t got no chance to get 
away. 

“Den wan guy loses his footin’ an’ de hull bunch o’ us 

goes down togedder. 
Wan guy must a 
t ’ o u g h t he was 
drowndin’, fer he gets 
a strangle holt on me 
an’ be de time I get 
me face out o’ de 
water me nose an’ me 
mout’ an’ me ears is 
full an’ everybody is 
givin’ me de laugh. I 

■•I LED HIM A DOG'S LIFE," de guy dat had 

me be de neck an’ who do you t’ink it is? Nobody but 
de pup. 

‘He makes me at de same time, an’ you’d oughter 
seen de stallin’ he done to make me let loose o’ him. 
Y’see, he don’t know who he’s grabbed w’en he’s under 
de water, an he’s just takin’ a chanct o’ half drowndin’ 
some guy so’s he kin laugh at him w’en he’s splutterin’. 

“‘Take me in to de beach!’ he hollers. ‘I ain’t used 
to bein’ in de water an’ I t’ought I was drownded, sure.’ 
‘You ain’t used to bein’ in de water, huh?’ I says, ‘Well, 
you’ll be used to it w’en I get t’roo wid you.’ 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


145 


“I just get a good holt on dat pup an’ walk him out to 
w’ere de water is purty deep an’ den I start in. You talk 
about a bunch o’ kids drowndin’ a cat slow an’ easy — dat 
ain’t a marker to de game I give de pup. I tell him ’bout 
de time w’en he uster swing on me fer two bits to eat wid, 
an’ how he never slung me nottin’ back w’en he did get 
hold o’ de goods, an’ den I shove him under de water an’ 
hold him dere, an’ give him plenty o’ time to t’ink o’ his 
misdoin’s. Den I bat him alongside o’ de ear a time er 
two an’ kinder remind him o’ de time he' come home from 
Milwaukee wid de goods an’ come in de joint an’ gimme 
de marble heart. Den I ask him how does de lake water 
taste alongside o’ de wine, an’ den I t’row him under 
again. 

“On de square, I led dat guy a dog’s life fer about a 
half an hour, an’ finally I see him coughin’ an’ splutterin’ 
an’ tryin’ to tell me somet’in’. I give him a couple o’ 
hot backs so’s he kin let loose o’ some o’ de water dat’s 
in him, an’ finally he gets so he kin talk to me. He prom- 
ises me anyt’ing in de world if I’ll leave him go, but I 
don’t pay much ’tention to him, an’ den he plays his last 
card an’ tells me he’s Joseph to w’ere a joint is w’ere a 
guy kin get a drink o’ de booze. 

“Y’ see, dey ain’t supposed to sell no booze out in dat 
end o’ town, an’ I t’ought a guy’d have to choke to deat’ 
widout he was willin’ to stand fer de soft stuff. 

“De pup swears be everyt’in’ you kin t’ink o’ dat he 
ain’t lyin’ to me an’ dat he kin show me dat he’s dere if 
I’ll let him get to his jeans. I take a chanct wid him, but 
I keep me mitts on him till we get to de bat’house w’ere 
his close was' an’ den he shows me dat he is sure enough 
dere wid de password an’ de papers dat’ll get him inside 
o’ de booze joint. He steers me to de place after aw’ile 


146 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


an’ I make him let loose o’ wot sjlver he’s got. But I 
b’lieve I’d a-drowned him on de square if he hadn’t ’a’ 
knowed w’ere de booze joint was. An’ dat’s de only 
system I’m goin’ to use wid dat guy after dis — abuse him 
like a dog. You got to do it to keep him in line.” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


147 


THE BARKEEP VISITS A SUMMER RESORT. 



NONE o’ youse guys see de pup? 
^ Well, wot d’ you t’ink o’ dat!” ex- 
claimed the barkeep the other evening 
as he entered the place and tossed a 
grip behind the bar, 

“Well, wot d’ you t’ink o’ dat?” he 
repeated a moment later, shoving his 
hands deep into his pockets and pac- 
ing up and down in front of the bar. 

The gang in the place saw that it. 
was no time to break into the bar- 
keep’s meditations, so they preserved a discreet silence 
and let things take their course. 

Finally the barkeep stopped short in his perambula- 
tions, banged his fist down on the bar and roared: “I’ll 
croak dat guy! Dat’s all dere is to it — I’ll croak him. 
An’ it won’t be wid no cannon, neider. I’ll croak him 
be standin’ him up agin de wall wid one mitt an’ beatin’ 
his face in wid de odder! An’ don’t none o’ youse guys 
t’ink dis is a kid wid me, neider. If I ever get me mitts 
on dat guy again I’ll beat him — beat him till his face is 
mixed up wid his brains! An’ I ain’t like a guy dat goes 
around an’ makes dem kind o’ talks widout goin’ t’roo 
wid dem, neider,” and the barkeep savagely bit off the 
end of a fresh cigar and kicked at a stray cat that had 
wandered in. 



148 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


Finally the seedy politician summoned courage enough 
to ask: “Wot’s the matter that you come back so soon? 

I thought you was goin’ to stay up there a couple o’ 
weeks.” 

“Stay up dere a couple o’ ! Well, I might as 

. well tell youse guys wot come off, anyhow. You know 
last Monday I gets a letter from a guy I knowed dat’s 

got a part o’ one o’ dem 
summer joints up in de 
country. Well, it’s in de 
letter w’ere it’s de swell- 
est fishin’ in de world up 
dere an’ about it bein’ de 
only place on eart’ fer a 
guy to lay off dat’s been 
coppin’ cfe booze purty 
strong an’ wan t’ing an’ 
annoder, an’ de spiel gets 
me stuck. I tell de boss 
I’m goin’ to lay off fer a 
couple o’ weeks an’ go 
out somew’eres an’ let 
de wind blow over me, 
an’ I write to me fren’ up 
in de country dat I’ll be 
“I’M ALL ABLAZE.” wid him de nex’ day. 

I’m sucker enough to 
put the pup Joseph to wot I’m goin’ to do an’ he starts 
right off an’ makes de strongest talk in de world to butt 
himself m. Well, he had been hustlin’ purty hard an’ he 
was dere wid quite a little bunch o’ de coin an’ I finally 
tells him he kin go ’long wid me if he’ll promise to be- 
have hisself like a gentleman oughter. 

“I borry one o’ dem poor fishin’ rods dat you kin un- 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


149 


couple and couple up again from a guy down de street, 
an’ I put dem bad clo’se I got from de tailor shop de 
odder day in me grip, an’ me an’ de pup gits on de rattler. 
I have even fell fer a new lid an’ a pair o’ de patten’ led- 
ders, so’s I kin frame up a front dat ’ll be able to go 
along wid any kind of a push dat me fren’ kin butt me in 
wid up dere, an’ I was kiddin’ meself ’bout wot a swell 
time we was goin’ to have. 

“Well, we get up to w’ere me fren’s joint is, an’, on de 
square, it was all right. Dere was nottin’ to do but lay 
around an’ sleep yer head ofif an’ founder yerself eatin’ 
an’ go out on de lake in de daytime an’ leave de sun shine 
on you w’ile yer waitip’ fer a fish to see wot’s on yer 
hook. , 

“Everyt’ing goes along all right fer a couple o’ days, 
an’ den de nex’ day me fren’ tells me dat he wants to take 
me acrost de lake dat ev’nin’ to annoder hotel w’ere dere 
was goin’ to be a blow-out.” 

“ ‘Cert’nly,’ I says, an’ I guess I framed meself up 
poor. I’m all ablaze wid me new front from sody to hock 
an’ I t’ink I’m about de swellest-lookin’ t’ing dat’s been 
paradin’ around in dat part o’ de country fer a many a 
day. 

“I see de pup is kinder sore w’en we don’t ask him to 
butt in, but he never bats his eye. 

“Well, along comes de pup in de afternoon an’ says: 
‘Let’s go fishin’.’ ‘Not wid dis front,’ I says., ‘Dat’s all 
right,’ he says. ‘You kin set in de back o’ de boat an’ I’ll 
do de work. Well, I t’ink I might as well, an’ out we go. 
I see de pup ain’t dere wid no close on more’n de law 
allows, but he tells me de wedder is so hot he don’t want 
to wear no more den he has to an’ I don’t t’ink nottin’ 
about it. He takes me way out on de lake, an’ den wot 
d’you s’pose dat guy done? 


150 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


“He gets up in de boat, widout battin’ his eye, jumps 
on de side of it, an’ over she goes! 

“W’en I come up an’ coughed up some o’ de water 
dat was in me de boat is a half a block wan way an’ de pup 
is furder dan dat de odder way an’ headin’ fer de shore. I 
ain’t no unhandy guy in de water, but I’ll tell youse guys 
I had me own troubles gettin’ to dat boat an’ w’en I did 
grab it all I could do was lay on it an’ holler. 

“It’s t’ree hours after dat afore a guy finally makes me 
from de shore an’ comes out an’ fetches me in. I go to 
de joint we was stoppin’ at ready to do murder, but de 
pup has blowed. He just cleans up all de change an’ 
cigars an’ wan t’ing an’ annoder he kin find in de room, 
an’ even gets a bottle o’ booze dat I have planted an’ 
don’t t’ink he’s Joseph to. Der ain’t nottin’ fer me to 
do but hop a rattler an’ come on back home, an’ back I 
come. 

“Now, if youse guys don’t want me to have to answer 
fer croakin’ a guy you tell dat pup to keep away from 
me. It’s sure all off wid me an’ him now an’ no chance 
fer a square-up. He’s broke his plate wid me.” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES 


151 


THE BARKEEP TALKS OF THE HARD 
TIMES. 


COPPER on the beat dropped into the 
place through the side door about two 
o’clock the other morning and found 
the barkeep dozing in a chair over in 
one corner. 

Otherwise the place was deserted. 
The barkeep sat up, stretched himself, 
yawned, and gazed sleepily at the 
copper. 

‘Tiello, dere, pal,” he remarked, as 
he got up lazily and dug his knuckles 
into his eyes on his way behind the bar. He reached 
mechanically for the policeman’s bottle and a glass and 
placed them on the bar and was trying to make up his 
mind what to take himself when the guardian of the peace 
interrupted him with: “You’ll hev t’ do a bit betther thin 
that, me boy.” 

“Wot’s de matter?” 

“Dthis bottle’s phwat thim race thrack fellys calls a 
dead wan.” 

The barkeep seized the bottle, blinked at it .and replied: 

“Dat’s right. Dat shows you de way de graft is. De 
copper’s bottle is alius de first one dat gets emptied in de 
joint. Dem’s about de only kind o’ people dat’s wettin’ 
a glass ’round here lately, anyhow — dem bulls dat comes 
in an’ swings on nfe fer a drink. I t’ink Pll close de 



152 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


drum purty soon if dem guys over to the city hall don’t 
gimme de office afore long dat 1 kin go along an’ do 
business after 12 o’clock de same as I alius done. 

“I got de joint open at dat, but I’m takin’ a long 
chance an’ I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t know der was a right 
guy on de beat,” and the barkeep reached for a box of 
“ropes” and invited the copper to help himself. Then 

he examined the tags 
on several jugs under 
the bar, picked out one 
and proceeded to fill 
the policeman’s bottle. 

“I t’ink ni put a> 
bit o’ de knockout in 
dis bottle wan o’ dem 
days,” continued the 
barkeep. “I’ll pick 
out a day right after 
de coppers gets paid 
an’ just hand every 
bull dat drops in a 
chunk dat’ll make him 
t’ink he’s agin some- 
t’in-’ worse den de trial 
board. I got so many . 
members o’ de Pinch 
an’ Rap club droppin’in 
onmean’handin’ me de glad hand every day dat I oughtto 
be able to clean up quite a bunch o’ change in a few hours’ 
time. Den I could slough de joint an’ take to de woods. 
Wot d’ you t’ink ’bout it? Hey! I’ll tell you wot I’ll 
do. Me an’ you’ll frame t’ings up an’ you go out an’ do 
de steerin’ an’ I’ll stick in de joint an’ hand de bulls de 
knock-out an’ do de friskin’. You kin grab every bull 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


153 


dat you see dat you t’ink is dere wid anyt’ing better den 
a case note an’ drag him in here to buy him a drink an’ 
leave me to do de cleanin’ up. Den after de stuff is off 
you’ll be a purty good stout guy t’ get away wid de dead 
ones. We kin fill up a couple o’ dem wine rooms full o’ 
bulls an’ leave dem come to de best way dey kin. Den 
we kin cut up wot come off an’ screw, bum, screw. Wot 
d’ you t’ink about it?” 

“Oi wouldn’t put it past yez at dat,” replied the officer. 
“Oi t’ink Oi’ll shtep over an’ see th’ Dutchman phin Oi 
want a bit av a drink afther dis. Yez might fergit who 
yer friends is wan o’ thim days an’ give me some o’ dat 
shtuff yer tellin’ me about. Anyhow, dat shtuff yez have 
in thim bottles lately ’d pizen a man dat didn’t have a 
hearty constitootion.” 

“Poison you, huh? Dat’s de way wid all youse dead 
wans — beef about de booze you get. If you’d come in an’ 
slap down fifteen onct in awhile like a gentleman I might 
hand you somet’in’ dat ain’t quite so fierce. 

“But, say, was I tellin’ you about me an’ de pup makin’ 
up again? Yes, me an’ him is pals onct more. Wot’s 
dat? Did he come back to de joint? I should say nit. 
I butt into him on de outside.” 

“How did he shquare hisself?” asked the copper. 

“Well, I’ll tell you de way de play come up. De odder 
night I take a lay-off on ’count o’ bein’ mixed up doorin’ 
de afternoon wid a bunch of gentlemen dat I knowed 
an’ gettin’ a bit of a package aboard fer meself. I’m out 
drillin’ ’round an’ spendin’ a little silver wid me fren’s 
an’ I finally drop into a joint over on de nort’ side. Me 
an’ me pal back o’ de bar is havin’ a little sociable drink, 
w’en I rubber in de glass an’ who do I make. but de pup 
standin’ down to de end o’ de bar. He’s talkin’ to a 
couple o’ guys an’ he’s got his back to w’ere I am. I’m 


154 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


figurin’ whedder to take a wallop at him in de joint er 
whedder to shoot de bull into him till I kin get him out- 
side wid me an’ den near murder him, w’en I hear him 
crack dat he’s been down in de country to dem trottin’ 
meetin’s fer a couple o’ weeks an’ dat he’s back wid de 
goods, 

“Dat settled it. Dat was like flashin’ a red shirt to a 
Durham bull. He’s dere wid de goods after t’rowin’ me 
in de lake an’ spoilin’ me swell clo’se! 

“I’m just startin’ to go at him widout de gloves, t’row 
him down an’ take wot he’s got away from him an’ den 
beat de livin’ life out o’ him, w’en he rubbers round an’ 
makes me. 

“Dat was de office fer me to start an’ I starts. Wot 
d’you s’pose de pup done? Take to de woods? Naw, he 
didn’t have no time to take to de woods. He digs down 
in his jeans, drags up a bunch o’ coin, t’rows bot’ mitts 
in de air an’ backs over again de wall an’ hollers: ‘Nix, 
pal ! I know I done you dirt up in de country, an’ I was 
just on me way over to de joint to settle wid you. Here, 
cop dis coin!’ 

“ ‘Dere was as much chance fer you to come over an’ 
settle wid me as dey is fer me to jump over de Masonic 
Temple,’ I says, grabbin’ de coin out of his mitt; ‘now 
dig down an’ gimme de rest o’ wot you got.’ 

“De pup makes an awful squawk, but I just stand him 
up in de corner an’ clean him up good. I oughter wal- 
loped him in de jaw besides, but he talks hisself out o’ 
it. De finish was dat me an’ him joins out togedder, an’ 
we had a poor night, I guess. He’s been round de joint 
two er t’ree times since an’ he alius has a little silver wid 
him, so I t’ink he must ’a’ been out wid a plant some- 
w’eres de odder night w’en I got to him. 

“But you kin gamble dat every time he comes in de 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 155 

joint now I got bot’ lamps on him all cle time, fer it’s a 
brewery to a can o’ beer dat dat pup’s got hi§. nut busy all 
de time framin’ up some way to get back at me. Have 
annoder little drink an’ don’t forgit to tell de big bull 
over to de station dat you found a padlock on bot’ doors 
an’ a guy on de outside seein’ dat dey was nobody be no 
chance broke in to get a drink.” 


156 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE BARKEEP TELLS OF A SHOOTING 
MATCH. 


Y OU hear ’bout de gun-play dat come 
off in here de odder night?” asked the 
barkeep of a friend who had dropped 
in. 

“Wot’s dat? Was dey anybody 
shot? No, dere wasn t nobody shot 
on account o’ de gun-play not bein’ 
on de square, but dere was wan guy 
come closer to dyin’ wid de scrabbled 
heart den ever you see in yer life, an’ 
dey was a few more gazabos round 
here dat lose a few days’ growt’ an’ tipped deir mitt ’bout 
wot dey’d do if a play come up dat was on de level. Not 
speakin’ o’ de furniture dat was broke up w’ile people 
was makin’ deir getaway. Split a bottle o’ beer wid 
me? 



“I’ll tell you ’bout de shootin’ match. Y’see, de hull 
t’ing is ribbed up be de pup an’ de results was dat it come 
near puttin’ de joint on de bum. I ain’t sure dat every- 
t’ing is squared at dat, an’ I’m kinder lookin ’every day 
fer a letter from de main bull over to headquarters tellin’ 
me dat I got to quit runnin’ a rough house ’round here 
if I want to keep de paper up on de wall dat entitles me 
to sell de booze. 

“De play come off just ’afore it come time to slough 
de joint de odder night, an’ it was de blow-off of an argu-- 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


157 


merit clat ’cl ’a had me daffy long ’afore de finish if I 
hadn’t ’a kep’ swingin’ on de booze purty reg’lar. 

“Y’see, dere’s a big guy drops in de joint early in de' 
evenin’ an’ he gets butted in wid some o’ de gang round 
here an’ he goes along an’ spends his silver purty good. 
If he ain’t dere wid de goods an’ lettin’ loose of it I 
couldn’t ’a stood fer him at all, fer he was de gabbyest 
guy you ever see in yer life, an’ swelled up on hisself 
at dat. He tells us he come from Boston, an’ accordin’ 

to him dere wasn’t a 
game dat you could 
mention dat clem guys 
dat lives in Boston 
didn’t have clem guys 
dat lives out in dis 
part o’ de country . 
cheated at. Him an’ 
dat bum politician dat 
hangs ’round here fin- 
ally winds up again’ 
de bar in de awfulest 
argument ever you 
heard. 

“I t’ink it started off 
’bout w’en it was dat 
“DE PUP CUTS LOOSE WID IT.” cleiu guys clown in 

Boston trim de tea in 
de lake, er somet’in’, an’ den it went from whedcler de 
gang ’round Clark street wouldn’t ’a’ done de same t ing 
if de boat clat was loaded wid de tea had ’a’ backed up 
into de Chicago river — clat is, s’posin’ clem clays was now 
—to de silver an’ de gold, an’ finally it winds up at 
fightin’. 

“Dey talks ’bout all de fighters dere is er ever was, an’ 
de politician don’t have none de worst o’ de argument 



158 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


at dat, fer w’en he gets warmed up he kin t’row a spiel 
out o’ him dat’d make a lot o’ suckers stand an’ rubber — 
an’ dat ain’t no kid. De argument finally gets around 
to gun-fightin’, an’ den was w’en de guy from Boston 
makes his grand spiel. He declares hisself dat dere never 
was no gun-fighter dat ever he see dat ever could make 
him show de yeller streak. 

“He tells us dat de way to stop all dem gun-fightin’ 
guys is to t’row dis hypnotism dat you read ’bout in de 
papers into dem ’afore dey have a chance to cut loose. 
He talks ’bout havin’ a brudder dat was onct de head guy 
on wan o’ dem cattle ranches out west, an’ ’bout how 
dis brudder had all dem gun-fightin’ guys out in dat part 
o’ de country walkin’ pigeon-toed an’ takin’ off der hats 
to him w’en dey went by, widout him ever so much as 
havin’ a mix-up. 

“He was dere wid dis hypnotism, accordin’ to dis Bos- 
ton guy, an’ he had all dem guys groggy de minute he 
t’run his lamp at dem. 

“De politician nor none o’ de rest o’ de gang wouldn’t 
stand fer de talk de Boston guy made an’ he was kinder 
gettin’ insulted an’ looked like he was ready to make a 
battle, w’en who comes in but de pup. 

“I been lettin’ de pup stick round de joint since I 
cleaned him up dat time, but I been flaggin’ him de min- 
ute I see him startin’ to rib anyt’ing up dat looks like 
it’s goin’ to finish in a battle. Dis night I’m tellin’ you 
'bout, dough, I’m feelin’ purty good meself on ’couht o’ 
bein’ to copsville purty reg’lar wid de booze an’ I do a 
little ribbin’ up meself. I been listenin’ to de Boston 
guy’s talk ’bout how he’d stall off gun-fighters till I’m 
wishin’, on de square, dat somebody ’d come out wid a 
cannon, on de level, so’s I’d see wot kind o’ a move he’d 
make, an’ so w’en I see de pup come in I calls him over 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


159 


to de end o’ de bar afore he has a chance to butt in wid de 
argument, an’ me an’ him starts to do a bit o’ framin’ up. 

“I take dat big cannon dat I have planted all de time 
down under de back bar an’ I empty de cartridges out 
-o’ it. Den I dig up a box o’ blanks dat I knowed was 
back o’ de bar. De boss gets dem somew’eres onct an’ I 
never did know wot he wanted wid dem. 

“I loads up de cannon an’ I hands it to de pup an’ puts 
him Joseph to wot de argument is an’ wot kind o’ a play 
I want him to make. Den I goes to w’ere de gun- 
fightin’ argument is goin’ on an’ I cracks like dis: 
‘Cheese,’ I says, ‘youse guys see dat feller dat just come 
in? Well, dat’s de toughest guy in dis end o’ town an’ 
a gun-fighter from de head o’ de stretch. He’s boozed, 
too, an’ I wouldn’t advise youse gentlemen to crack too 
loud ’bout wot you’d do wid gun-fighters.’ 

“De Boston guy’s just got booze enough in him to 
get swelled up w’en I makes me talk, an’ he says: ‘Never 
mind. I ain’t afraid o’ him nor his gun.’ Den I give 
de pup de office an’ he butts in an’ says: Wot’s dat? You 
ain’t afraid o’ whose gun? Who’re you, anyhow? If 
you bat yer eye to me I’ll pump a hole t’roo you, see?’’ 

“De Boston guy turns kinder yeller round de gills, but 
he starts makin’ a few daffy moves wid his mitts in front 
o’ de pup, an’ den de pup says: ‘Wot’s de matter wid 
you? Keep yer mitts out o’ me face.’ 

“De Boston guy keeps on wid his moves an’ de pup 
comes out wid de cannon an’ t’rows it up under de big 
guy’s nose an’ lets her go. 

“ ‘Whang!’ she goes, an’ de Boston guy rose right up 
on his tip-toes, an’ I Bought his lamps was goin’ to fall 
out o’ his head. 

“ ‘Whang!’ de pup lets her go again, an’ you’d oughter 
seen dat big guy take to de woods ! De side door is open 


160 


THE BARKEEP faTORlES. 


’bout a foot an’ he loosens de top hinge an’ splits wan o’ 
de panels goin’ t’roo it. Dere’s a big long guy wid a 
Prince Albert coat on dat was sittin’ over be a table 
again de wall, an’ w’en de Boston guy starts to screw he 
was wid him. He tips over all de tables an’ chairs in de 
joint makin’ his getaway, an’ he come near beatin’ de 
Boston guy to de door at dat. Dere’s two little long- 
haired guys standin’ at de bar. Wan o’ dem faints dead 
away w’en de first shot was fired, an’ de odder breaks a 
couple o’ dozen glasses tryin’ to get down behind de bar. 
T’ree er four more guys dat was playin’ seven-up in de 
back o’ de joint gets jammed in de door togedder tryin’ 
to get out, an’ de pup lays down on de floor from laffin’. 

“After everybody has took to de woods but me an’ de 
pup an’ de politician an’ a couple more o’ de reg’lar mem- 
bers we get to t’inkin’ o’ wot’s goin’ to be de come-back, 
an’ den’s w’en de pup done de only wise t’ing I ever see 
him do in me life. 

“It’s a pipe, y’see, dat some o’ dem bulls ’round here 
hears de cannon, an’ we got to have somet'in’ to stall de 
first one dat comes rubberin’. De pup tears round back 
o' de cigar case an’ digs up a cannon cracker dat I forgot ' 
all about dat’s been planted dere ever since de Fourt’ o’ 
July, an’ he lights it up. • 

“Be dis time dere’s a bunch o’ rubbernecks on de out- 
side o’ de joint, an’ finally de bull on de beat breaks in 
wid his club in wan mitt an’ his cannon in de odder an’ 
lookin’ like he was expectin’ t’ see a few dead men layin’ 
’round. W’en he gets inside de door de pup sneaks up 
an’ t'rows de cannon cracker on de floor right behin’ 
him. I’m tellin’ him dat dey was a few daffy guys come 
in de joint an’ set off a couple o’ cannon crackers afore I 
kin flag dem, an’ den I says; ‘Look out! dere’s annoder 
wan.’ 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


IGl 


“De bull rubbers ’round an’ ‘whang!’ off she goes. Dat 
bull jumps near t’irty feet an’ lands up on top of a table 
an’ w’en he come to an’ see de gang lafifin’ he’s goin’ to 
pinch me an’ every one in de joint fer havin’ a rough 
house. 

“A drink o’ booze er two an’ a rope an’ a couple o’ 
hot backs squares him all right, dough, an’ he goes out 
an’ near beats wan guy to deat’ dat was rubberin’ an’ 
didn’t hear him tell him t’ move on. 

“Wot’s dat? Yes, de pup has been gettin’ purty sassy 
’round here de last couple o’ days. He says if I don’t 
treat him purty nice he’ll tip it off to de bull on de beat 
’bout how I’m framin’ up to sc^re me customers to’ deat’. 
I’ll hand him wan on de jaw wan o’ dem days dat’ll fi^c 
him so’s he can’t tell. nobody nottin’ fer aw’ile. But he 
ain’t a bad feller at dat, if you don’t let him get off in de 
lead too fur. If you do he’ll lead you a merry chase. 
Let’s split annoder bottle.” 


162 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE BARKEEP AND THE PUP VISIT A 
GERMAN PICNIC. 



YOUSE guys hear ’bout me winnin’ de 
foot race?” asked the ba.rkeep the 
other evening after everybody but the 
“dead ones” had left. 


“Wot’s dat? Didn’t know dat I 
was a sprinter? W’y, I’m de cham- 
pion o’ de world any time I kin get 
ag’in a guy dat’ll stand fer me to 
frame up de way de foot race lias got 
to be run. Dis one was de hottest 
ever come off. 


“Y’see, it’s last Sunday, an’ me an’ me fren’ de pup is 
out to a Dutch picnic. I dunno how I ever come to 
stand fer bein’ steered ag’in a Dutch picnic anyhow, but 
at dat I’d be willin’ to take annoder chance ag'in de same 
game just onct more fer luck. We didn’t book no losin’ 
at dis one, fer we hadn’t let loose o’ much more den a 
single apiece an’ we was bot’ dere wid about as much 
beer aboard as a guy is entitled to carry w’en he’s away 
from his own stampin’-grounds, an’ de pup has about win 
out a girl fer hisself, w’en de play comes up dat finishes 
in de foot race bein’ framed up. After de race we’re ten 
pictures to de good, not sayin’ nottin’ about a keg o’ beer 
dat we didn’t exac’ly t’ink it was a wise move to go back 
after. 

“Wot’s dat— wot’s pictures? W’y, ain’t you seen deni 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


163 


noo case-notes dat s around dat look like an oil paintin’? 
Deni s pictures. Dat is, dat’s wot dem race-horse guys 
an’ odder gen’lmen dat’s uster huntin’ easy money calls 
dem. 

I might as well tell youse guys how de hull play 
come up. 

Y see, last Sunday is a swell day, an’ I’m downtown 
wid nottin to do, so I join de pup out an’ we go car- 

riding. We go out as 
fur as de rattler runs an’ 
den we blow, an’ I see a 
hull bunch o’ Dutch 
blow at de same time an’ 
head acrost de prairie. 
‘Dere’s a Dutch picnic, 
sure,’ says de pup; ‘let’s 
tail dem up. A guy can’t 
never tell wot’s goin’ to 
come off, an’ it’s near a 
cinch dat we kin butt into 
a beer-patch somew’eres, 
anyhow.’ 

“ ‘All right,’ I says, an’ 
we joins out wid de 
Dutch 

‘‘De picnic is over in de 
woods ’bout halt a mile 
away, an’, on de square, it was all right. I butt into t’ree 
er four guys dat I knowed from downtown, an’ de first 
t’ing I know me an’ de pup is mixed up wid a lot o’ de , 
Dutch all in a bunch togedder like Brown’s cows, an’ de 
beer coinin’ 'bout as fast as dey kin drag it in to us an’ 
never an argument er a word out o’ de way. 

“Y’ see, dem Dutch picnics ain’t like an Irish picnic, 



“DE DUTCHMAN NEVER RUB- 
BERS AT ADD.” 


164 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


w’ere a guy is liable to get a poke in de eye er a wallop 
back o’ de ear wid a beer glass at purty near any stage o’ 
de game. Well, we go ’long wid a little short silver, an’ 
we’re doin’ bully w’en de foot-races an’ de jumpin’- 
matches an’ wan t’ing annoder starts up. Me an’ de pup 
is rubberin’ at dem Dutch breakin’ der necks tryin’ to win 
a pair o’ $2 shoes er a box o’ bum cigars, w’en dey ring 
de bell fer de final grand foot race o’ de day, w’ere nobody 
but de members o’ de club dat was givin’ de picnic is al- 
lowed to start, an’ de first guy under de wire gets a $4 
pair o’ pants an’ a medal dat declares him to be de cham- 
peen o’ de picnic. 

“Dere’s wan big Dutchman in de race dat a guy 
wouldn’t t’ink had no more chance to win den an ice 
wagon has to beat a trolley car, but he was de boy dat was 
first at de finish. He could get over more ground in less 
time den any big guy ever I see afore, but you could see 
after dey handed him his tin medal dat dey was nobody 
t’ought no better of his sprintin’ abilities den he did his- 
self. He wouldn’t hardly speak to nobody, an’ he looked 
like he t’ought he was entitled to more attention den wan 
o’ dem guys dat’s runnin’ fer President. 

“Right den is w’en de pup starts to frame up to trim 
him at his own game. ‘Will you run a foot race wid dat 
guy if I kin get him to bet any coin on himself?’ says de 
.pup. 

“ ‘Me run a foot race?’ I says. ‘I’d do right well run- 
nin’ a foot race. I wouldn’t run from here to w’ere de 
band is fer a twenty-case note. I’d ’bout drop dead on de 
route.’ 

“ ‘You won’t have to run ten foot,’ says de pup. ‘Leave 
it to me.’ 

“Den he goes over to de Dutchman, an’ I don’t know 
wot kind o’ a game o’ talk he gives him, but it ain’t long 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


165 


afore he has him over to me an’ willin’ to bet any part of 
a ten-case note clat he kin beat me sprintin’ fer any dis- 
tance dat I kin mention. 

“ ‘Well,’ de pup says, ‘I’ll tell you wot we’ll do. You 
see dem two trees over dere?’ pointin’ to a couple dat 
stood ’bout a quarter of a mile over on de prairie an’ near 
dat fur apart. ‘Well,’ says de pup, ‘dat’ll make a good 
race — from here round dem two trees an’ back, but to 
prevent any trippin’ er anyt’ing like dat wan o’ yez kin go 
wan way an’ de odder kin go de odder. De two o’ yez 
kin pass each other goin’ up de back stretch an’ dat’ll fix 
it so’s der won’t be no chance fer interferin’ wid each 
odder at no part o’ de route.’ 

“ ‘All right,’ says de Dutchman, an’ he digs down fer 
his ten. Den he wants to'bet me a keg o’ beer, too, an’ I 
says all right. 

“We makes de pup de stakeholder, an’ de Dutchman 
don’t t’ink nottin’ wrong. I t’rows me coat an’ vest to de 
pup an’ rolls up me pants an’ de pup gives us de word. 

“De Dutchman tears acrost de prairie fer his tree like 
he was makin’ a getaway from a mob dat wanted to string 
him up, an’ he never rubbers around at all. 

“I run about twenty foot de way I was to go an’ den I 
turns an’ grabs me clo’se an’ me an’ de pup heads acrost 
de prairie fer w’ere de nearest rattler starts from. We 
was goin’ wan way an’ de Dutchman de odder, an’ be de 
time he rounds his tree we’re on de odder side o’ de 
woods. I b’lieve I’ll take de pup wid me an’ drop out to 
annoder Dutch picnic some Sunday. Dey ain’t so bad.’’ 

“Well, I guess that sticks you, don’t it?” remarked the 
seedy politician, and the gang proceeded to line up to 
the bar. 


166 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE BARKEEP GOES HUNTING. 

AIN’T nottin’ to it; Fm de champion 
hunter o’ de world.” 

The barkeep came into the place a 
night or two ago, tossed a grip back 
of the cigar case and waved the gang 
in the place up to the bar. He was 
attired in an old suit of clothes and a 
sweater and there was a week’s growth 
of beard on his face. 

"You’re th’ champion hunter o’ the 
world?” said the seedy politician. 
"Huntin’ wot — the booze?” 

"Naw, not huntin’ de booze! D’ you s’pose a guy dat’s 
jerkin’ beer fer a livin’ is goin’ t’ lay off fer a week to go 
huntin’ de booze? I been huntin’ on de level, but I ain’t 
stuck on de game. Dem guys dat’s been swellin’ it up to 
me round here kin have it. But I’m de champion hunter 
o’ de world at dat.” 

“How’s dat?” asked the seedy politician. 

"Just dis way,” replied the barkeep, as he helped him- 
self to a cigar out of the case and asked his boss for a 
match; “dere’s been a-many an’ a-many a guy huntin’ de 
pup in his day, but I’m de first wan dat ever winged him.” 

"Winged him? AYot d’ you mean — took a shot at 
him ?” 

“He ain’t hurt very bad,” returned the barkeep. "Dere’s 
a few dat went t’roo de war dat he’s got beat, anyhow, 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


167 


Dey got him out to de hospital, an’ de wise guy wid de 
whiskers dat kinder looked him over w’en we fetched him 
in tells me dat de worst he’ll have is a bum gam fer a 
couple o’ mont’s. But I don’t care if he croaks at dat. 
He t’rowed a scare into me worse’n de time w’en I 
t’ought I was dere wid de snakes. Let’s have annoder 
drink an’ I’ll tell youse guys how de play come up. 

“Y’ see,' dere’s a little fat guy dat comes round here 

dat’s been ribbin’ me 
up all de summer t’ go 
out huntin’ wid him 
w’en de time come in 
de fall. He’s been 
crackin’ to me ’bout 
how swell a game it is 
t’ shoot dem prairie 
chickens an’ dem 
ducks an’ how a guy 
lands at some farmer’s 
joint in de evenin’, 
after drillin’ acrost de 
prairie an’ t’roo de 
woods all day, ready t’ 
cut into a chunk o’ raw 
meat if he can’t get nottin’ else, an’ den how poor it is to’ 
put yer feet under de table and clean up a bunch o’ dem 
chickens an’ ducks an’ rabbits, an’ wan t’ing an’ annoder, 
till he finally gets me ribbed up t’ goin’ out wid him fer a 
week an’ take a chance at it. 

“Well, de little guy is dere wid de goods an’ he’s will- 
in’ t’ go along an’ do de settlin’ an’ las’ week I shoot it 
into de boss here how I’ll drag him back a bunch o’ rab- 
bits an’ ducks an’ wan t’ing an’ annoder dat’ll keep his 
folks till Christmas an’ he tells me I kin lay off fer a week 



“I DO A REG’LAR INDIAN CREEP.” 


168 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


er two. W’ile Fm squarin’ de old man wot d’ you s’pose 
de pup done? He gets to de little guy an’ tells him dat 
he was raised on a ranch an’ is de swellest hunter in de 
world. I don’t know w’ere he learns de spiel, but he’s 
dere good an’ strong wid all de huntin’ talk ever you 
heard about, an’ he must a’ trim an awful bunch into de 
little guy, fur he finally cons him into joinin’ him out too. 
Fm willin’ t’ balk, but I t’ink I might knock de hull game 
if I do, an’ so I don’t bat me eye. 

“Well, de t’ree of us gets on a rattler las’ week art’ goes 
out t’ w’ere dis guy says de swell huntin’ is. De little guy 
don’t do nottin’ only drag a tent an’ a bunch o’ blankets 
an’ wan t’ing an’ annoder wid him, an’ he slips a farmer a 
little coin t’ leave him put it up in a patch o’ woods back 
o’ de farmhouse. De nex’ day de t’ree of us starts out. 
I got a gun de little guy gimme dat weighs t’irty pounds 
an’ de pup is dere wid wan as long as hisself. 

“I won’t stand fer de pup t’ walk nowheres but in front 
o’ me, an’ we go ’long purty good widout no arguments. 

“De little guy leads us a merry chase. He’s near as 
wide as he is long, but he can drill over more prairie in 
wan day den I want to drill over de balance o’- me life. 
He’s got a couple o’ dogs wid him, an’ doorin’ de day he 
cops out a half a dozen o’ dem prairie chickens. I cut 
loose at dem meself a few times, but I might as well ’a 
been shootin’ at de moon. De best de pup kin do is t’ 
near take de tail off’n wan o’ de dogs, an’ de little guy has 
t’ chase de dog near t’ree mile afore he kin ketch him 
again. 

“Well, we finally blow back t’ de farmer’s joint an’ Fm 
ready t’ cut in an’ eat a hull sheep, wool an’ all. De farm- 
er’s wife balks at cookin’ de chickens, an’ de best we get 
is cold corned beef. I been eatin’ corn beef off an’ on 
near all me life, but Fm so near starvin’ t’ deat’ dis time 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


169 


dat I t’ought I was eatin* turkey w’en I first cut into it. 
Well, we go along fer a few days an’ I never did hit not- 
tin’, an’ neider did de pup. I finally go t’ bed wan night 
an’ tell de little guy I’m goin’ t’ blow back t’ town in de 
mornin’. 

“Along ’bout t’ree o’clock in de mornin’ I wake up an’ 
t’ink I hear somet’in’ growlin’ on de outside o’ de tent. I 
lay dere aw’ile an’ den I get up an’ t’row on me clo’se an’ 
grab me gun. 

“Y’ see, I t’ink it’s a bear, an’ I says to mcself: ‘If I kin 
ever cop out a bear I’ll be so fur off in de lead on de hunt- 
in’ trip dat dem guys never will git to me.’ 

“I rubber out o’ de tent an’ de growlin’ is cornin’ from 
behind a bunch o’ bushes along ’bout t’irty foot away. I 
do a reg’lar Indian creep over t’ w’ere it is an’ I see some- 
t’in’ dat I t’ink sure is a bear on de odder side o’ de bush. 

“I take me time wid me gun an’ den I cut loose. 

“De bear gets up on his hind feet an’ tears around 
yellin’ like a Comanche Indian. I’m about to cut loose 
again w’en I hear de bear holler ‘murder!’ an’ ‘p’leece!’ 
an’ a few odder t’ings, an’ de little guy runs out o’ de tent 
wid nottin’ much on him an’ den de two o’ us runs an’ 
grabs de bear — an’ it ain’t nobody but de pup. He’s dere 
wid a bear skin dat de farmer had nailed up on his barn, 
tied around him, an’ he finally tells us after me t’reatenin’ 
t’ take annoder shot at him dat he’s all framed up t’ t’row 
de scare into me good an’ plenty an’ den blow back home 
an’ tell de gang about it. 

“I never notice dat de pup’s blowed w’en I go out o’ de 
tent er I’d ’a knowed it was no bear. Well, de shootin’ 
wakes up de farmer, an’ his wife an’ dey fix up de pup’s 
gam w’ere I winged him de best dey kin an’ dis mornin’ 
we take him back t’ town an’ put him in de hospital. It’s 
good enough fer him, anyhow. I oughter knowed better 


170 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


in de first place den t’ stand fer him bein’ joined out.' It 
was" a pipe he’d rib up some trouble afore he was t’roo. 
Dere’s wan t’ing de pup kin be t’ankful fer de balance o’ 
his life, an’ dat is dat it was me an’ not de little guy dat 
was shootin’ at him. Let’s get annoder drink.” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


171 


THE BARKEEP GETS ARRESTED. 

D’ YOU t’ink o’ me bein’ pinched fer 
a burglar?” asked the barkeep a night 
or two ago, as he walked back of the 
bar an hour later than he usually ap- 
peared. 

“Well, dey finally got you right, 
huh?” responded the pup, as he limped 
with the aid of a cane over toward a 
chair. “I alius t’ought you was dere 

wifi some odder graft den ” 

“Say, lemme tell you somet’in’, Mr. 
Wise Guy,” broke in the barkeep, stoppin’ in his search 
for a clean apron to glare at the pup; “you’ll take off dem 
kiddin’ clo’se o’ yours w’en you’re ’round here er you’ll 
get t’run out o’ de joint. You’re doin’ purty well ’round 
here, you are, an’ don’t get de idea in yer nut dat yer 
entitled to de kiddin’ privileges ’round dis joint ’cause 
you’re dere wid a bum gam an’ nobody kin get back at 
you. 

“I t’ink you must have yerself kidded dat you got 
somet’in’ on me since I happened to plug wan into yer 
gam be mistake. I s’pose you’ll be flashin’ dat bum gam 
to me an’ swingin’ on me fer two-bits all winter, huh? I 
wisht I’d ’a croaked you, an’ it ain’t no pipe dat I don’t 
croak you anyhow afore de winter’s over if you don’t be. 
purty nice ’round here.” 

“Aw, you’re de same as a hull lot more guys — stuck t’ 



172 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


kid somebody all de time an’ can’t stand fer it yerself,” 
replied the pup. “But wot’sdat you was crackin’ ’bout — 
bein’ pinched fer a burglar?” 

“Yes, an’ dat ain’t no stem spiel, neider. Wait till I get 
a little booze under me belt an’ I’ll tell youse about it. I 
just broke out o’ jail.” 

“Broke out o’ jail?” came in chorus from the gang as 

they lined up and join- 
ed the barkeep; “den 
it was a pinch an’ no 
kid, huh?” 

“I should say it was 
no kid. If youse guys 
had ’a seen dem bulls 
t’row me in de wagon 
wid de bracelets on an’ 
free er four o’ dem 
coppers havin’ holts 
on me like dey t’ought 
I was de long guy 
broke out again you 
wouldn’t t’ink it was a 
kid, neider. 

“Y’ see, las’ night 
de graft is on de bum 
an’ I get sore an’ 
slough de joint ’bout wan o’clock an’ git on a rattler an’ 
go over f see a fren’ o’ mine dat’s tendin’ bar in a joint 
way over on de west side. I ain’t seen him fer a long 
time an’ I have an idea in me nut dat he’s into me fer 
about a two-case note, so I jtist t’ink I’ll drop over an’ 
see him. 

“Well, I get over dere an’ business is de same wid him 
as it is wid me, hai rin’ wan guy dat’s in de joint an’ is 



“OVER INTO DE NEX’ LOT.” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


173 


willin’ t’ let loose o’ a little change if he kin get some- 
body t’ pay a little ’tention to him w’ile he’s spielin’ de 
silver an’ de gold argument. Well, I stick around aw’ile 
an’ drink up a bit o’ booze an’ w’en I blow it’s long ’bout 
2:30 in de mornin’. 

“You got t’ walk a couple o’ blocks from dis guy’s joint 
afore you kin git a rattler, an’ de streets is purty dark. I 
ain’t no more den out o’ de joint w’en I see a couple o’ 
husky-lookin’ guys mopin’ along ’bout half a block away 
de way I was goin’. I’m kind o’ leary o’ being stuck up 
— not on ’count o’ being overloaded wid de goods, but 
I don’t want to take no chance o’ gettin’ a heatin’ fer 
meself — so I duck over on de odder side o’ de street. I 
drill along a little ways an’ de two guys on de odder side 
sees me cornin’ an’ dey cuts acrost in front o’ me. ‘Dis is 
a stick-up, sure,’ I says t’ meself, an’ I don’t know whed- 
der t’ tear back t’ me fren’s joint er duck down de alley- 
to de nex’ street. 

“Well, I drill along slow till I come to de alley, an’ 
den I says t’ meself, ‘I’ll just fool youse guys,’ an’ I duck 
down de alley on a hot-foot. 

“I ain’t gone fur w’en, ‘Whang!’ I hear somebody cut 
loose wid a cannon behin’ me. ‘Well, wot d’ you t’ink o’ 
dat?’ I says t’ meself, ‘dem guys is a couple o’ rough 
members sure. Dey ’re sore ’cause I do me duckaway 
an’ dey t’ink dey ’ll just take a shot at me anyhow.’ 

“Well, I keep a tearin’ down de alley w’en, ‘Whang! 
Whang! Whang!’ goes a cannon behin’ me, an’ I near 
fell dead wid de scrabbled heart. 

“I rubber, an’ de two guys I seen on de street is tearin’ 
down de alley after me, an’ just den it come into me nut 
dat dey was coppers. ‘Well,’ I says t’ meself, ‘if dey’re bulls 
it’s too late now t’ stop an’ tell dem I’m on de square, an’ 
if I stick in de alley dey ’ll croak me.’ Just den I come to 


174 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


a kinder low fence an’ over I go an’ tear t’roo some guy s 
back yard. 

“Y’ see, I ain’t so stuck t’ git away, but I am stuck t’ 
put er fence er two between me an’ dem cannons. Well, 
I blow over annoder fence an’ land down into annoder 
guy’s yard. I’m tearin’ acrost de yard w’en I get a peek 
at a dog headin’ fer me dat looked t’ me t’ be ’bout six foot 
high. I’m near all out, but it’s a case o’ whedder I get 
to de next fence er de dog gets to me first, an’ I win by 
a nose. 

“I t’ink I’m all right w’en I blow over de fence, but dat 
was me finish. I land wid bot’ feet on de top of a guy 
dat’s layin’ planted in de grass in de nex’ yard, an’ afore I 
know wot’s cornin’ off me an’ him is mixed up in a go-as- 
you-please wrasslin’ match, wid no holts barred. 

“I’ve blowed ’bout all me wind, but dis is a little guy I 
fell on an’ I finally t’row him down. 

“ ‘Well,’ he says, ‘you got me an’ I guess I’ll have t’ 
stand fer a pinch.’ ‘Stand fer a pinch?’ I says. ‘I ain’t no 
copper. I’m just makin’ a getaway from a couple o’ balls 
er a couple o’ murderers, I don’t know w’ich.’ 

“ ‘De doose you say.’ says de little guy; ‘dem guys dat 
was chasin’ you was coppers, an’ dey was about lookin’ 
fer me an’ me pal. Y’ see, de bull on de beat up in de 
nex’ block ketches me an’ de guy I’m workin’ wid cornin’ 
out of a windy wid de goods on us ’bout half an hour ago, 
an’ we have t’ give him a foot-race t’ git away. I git in 
here an’ I t’ink it’s a purty good place t’ plant fer aw’ile 
till dem coppers gets off de streets. I don’t know w’ere 
me pal blowed to, but I t’ought it was all off wid him w’en 
I heard dem cannons goin’ off.’ 

“Just den we hear de bulls gettin’ over into de nex’ 
yard an’ de little guy says, ‘Come on, screw!’ 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


175 


“ ‘You screw an’ I’ll stick an’ stand fer a pinch,’ I says, 
an’ de little guy took to de woods. 

“W’en de coppers starts t’ get over de fence I declare 
meself an’ tell dem not to shoot. De two dat was after 
me has a couple o’ bulls wid de harness on wid dem be 
dis time an’ de four o’ dem grabs me an’ drags me out in 
de alley. Dey frisk me fer a cannon an’ I tell dem how 
I come to tear down de alley, but dey won’t stand fer it. 

“ ‘Aw, quit yer kiddin’, dey says, an’ dey t’row me in de 
wagon an’ take me t’ wan o’ dem stations over dere an’ 
t’row me downstairs. De chief bull he comes down an’ 
he gimme de laugh w’en I tell him who I am. Dey won’t 
lemme send out nor nottin’, an*^ I’m beginnin’ t’ t’ink I’m 
goin’ t’ lay in jail fer a week, w’en down comes a wise guy 
from de central dat dey sent out dere to look me over. 

“He makes me right off de jump on ’count o’ havin’ 
dropped in de joint a few times an’ swung on me fer de 
booze an’ wan t’ing an’ annoder, an’ everyt’ing is all right. 
He tells dem bulls over dere dat I ain’t no burglar an’ dey 
turn me loose. Ain’t dat a hot one? If it’d ’a’ been dat 
I was in a strange town an’ de same play come up dey’d 
about sent me over de road de balance o’ me life. Dem 
burglars kin have deir graft — I don’t want no part o’ it. 
Layin’ over dere in dat booby-hatch has shot de scare 
into me good an’ plenty. Come on an’ have annoder 
drink.” 


176 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE BARKEEP TELLS ABOUT THE 
IRON MAN. 


fe^n«)7csr-^ DID you get de bum mitt?” asked the 
seedy politician of the barkeep the 
other evening, as the drink mixer en- 
tered the place where he usually offi- 
ciated with the fingers of one hand 
bandaged up and the other one in a 
sling. 

“W’ere did I get de bum mitt?” re- 
peated the barkeep, as the gang gath- 
ered around him, “w’ich bum mitt d’ 
you mean? Bot’ o’ me mitts is on de 
bum an’ one o’ me wings is broke — dat 
is. I’m willin’ t’ lay a little even money dat it’s broke, al- 
dough de doc dat looked it over is tryin’ t’ t’row de bull 
con into me dat it ain’t. Wot’s dat? Did I fall off’n a 
rattler? Not me! Did you ever see a picter of a billy 
goat buttin’ up agin a stone wall? Well, dat was me.” 

“Wot’s de matter wid you — did you have de snakes 
again?” ventured the politician. 

“Naw, I didn’t have no snakes. I’m de soberest guy in 
de world at de time an’ I’m jest tryin’" t’ keep up de reputa- 
tion o’ de joint dat der ain’t nobody kin come in here an’ 
win a battle, dat’s all.” 

“Oh, you had a battle wid a guy an’ he trimmed you, 
huh? . W’en did it come off?” 

“I didn’t get no trimmin’ from nobody,” returned the 
barkeep, who was growing a bit wrathy. “You don’t see 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


177 



nobody rimnin’ ’round loose dat kin come up in my joint 
an’ g-imme me trimmin’s, do you? I just trimmed meself.” 

'‘Oh, you was fightin’ wid yerself, huh?” asked one of 
the regular members. 

“Fightin’ wid meself! Wot d’ you t’ink o’ dat! I’m 
wonderin’ half de time how some o’ youse guys has got 

nut enough t’ keep out 


o’ Kankakee. Wait a 
minute till we get a lit- 
tle drink an’ den I’ll 
tell youse guys how I 
come to put me mitts 
on de bum. 

“Y’ see,” continued 
the barkeep, after he 
had cleared his throat, 
“it’s somew’eres about 
two o’clock dismornin’ 
an’ der ain’t nobody in 
de joint but me an’ de 
pup. I’ve got a few 
under me belt an’ I’m 
settin’ back o’ de bar 
wid de key o’ de regis- 
ter in me kick an’ a 
cannon layin’ under de 
bar so’s to be framed 
up in case a stick-up 
should come off. Y’ see, dem chilly nights has got de 
boys dat get it de best way dey kin a bit scared an’ a guy 
can’t tell wot's goin’ t’ come off. De pup is asleep good 
an’ plenty in de back room an’ it looks like der ain’t goin 
to be annoder guy drop in de joint till mornin’. I’m 
about asleep altogedder w’en de door opens an’ in comes 


•1 HAND HIM A COUPLE O’ 
PEACHES.” 


178 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


a little guy clat looks like a bull pup in de face. He comes 
up to de bar an’ cracks ’bout like dis: ‘Hey, you! Gimme 
a drink— see?’ 

“ ‘Cert’nly I’ll give you a drink if yer dere wid de 
price,’ I says. 

“‘Well, wot if I ain’t dere wid de price?’ says de little 
guy, reachin’ fer de bottle like dis. 

“ ‘You don’t get no drink, dat’s all,’ I says. 

“ ‘You t’ink I won’t?’ he says; ‘five ’ll get you ten any 
time you t’ink dis guy won’t get a drink wid er widout de 
price.’ 

“ ‘You won’t get it in dis joint,’ I says, fer I’m gettin’ 
kinder sore, an’ I grab fer de bottle. Me an’ him has each 
got a mitt on de bottle, an’ I says; ‘Now show me a little 
silver er let loose o’ dat bottle. You been crackin’ round 
here till I got an idea in me nut dat you’re a dead one. 
Just come to a flash wid de price. I’m from Missouri, 
you got to show me.’ 

“ ‘I ain’t got t’ show nobody,’ he says, ‘you don’t know 
who I am.’ 

“ ‘I don’t care who you are,’ I says, ‘an’ if you don’t let 
loose o’ dat bottle I’ll come over de bar an’ beat yer 
head off.’ 

“ ‘Yer crazy if you t’ink you’ll beat my head off,’ says 
de little guy ; ‘dere’s been people tryin’ t’ do dat all me life 
an’ I ain’t got no scars yet.’ ‘Den dere’s a few cornin’ t’ 
you,’ I says, an’ I hauls off an’ soaks him wan in de jaw 
wid me odder mitt, an’ den I goes over de bar after 
him. 

“It was me and him in a battle sure enough, an’ it was 
de toughest game I ever run agin in me life. We was 
fightin’ near a half an hour an’ dat guy never lands wan 
punch, but I’m de worst-licked guy at de finish ever you 
see. 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


179 


“W’en I go over de bar he comes at me wid de bottle, 
but he ain’t much more’n half as big as me an’ it was soft 
stoppin’ him. I just hand him wan wid de left between de 
eyes an’ he straightens up like he run agin a brick wall. 

“Den I take me time an’ swing on him good wid de 
right. I cop him side o’ de ear an’ he lands head first 
again’ de bar like he was t’rowed ofif’n a rattler going 
t’irty mile an hour. He blows de bottle w’en he lands 
again’ de bar, an’ I pick it up an’ set it on de bar, fer, y’ 
see, I t’ink it’s a brewery to a can o’ beer dat de guy won’t 
come to fer a half an hour. I'm t’inkin’ dat it was about 
as soft a battle as I had win in a many a day w’en I rubber 
an’ dere’s de guy gettin’ up on his feet wid bot’ mitts 
closed up an’ ready an’ willin’ t’ keep on goin’. ‘Well, 
wot d’ you t’ink o’ dat?’ I says t’ meself, an’ I just step 
over an swing bot’ mitts on him as hard as I know how. 

“Y’ see. I’m dere wid all de reach an’ everyt’ing else 
an’ I kin land any time I want to. Well, down he goes, 
but he’s up again in a minute. I rubber at him an’ den 
walk up an’ hit him annoder good poke an’ down he goes 
again. 

“Y’ see, every time he goes down I’m willin’ t’ leave him 
get up if he kin, fer I don’t want t’ t’row de boots into 
him on account o’ him bein’ a little guy an’ I don’t want 
t’ give him no chance t’ take holts wid me, fer some o’ 
dem little gazabos’d bodder anybody t’ lick w’en onct dey 
get a holt on a guy. 

“I t’ink it’s a pipe dat I kin lick him wid me mitts, but 
after I’ve handed him a few wallops dat oughter put near 
anybody out an’ he keeps cornin’ back all de time he 
cert’nly has me guessin’. Be dis time de battle has woke 
up de pup an’ he comes out rubberin’ t’ see wot’s de 
matter. 

“‘Dere’s de toughest guy t’ lick I ever see in me life,’ 


180 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


I says to de pup, an’ I hits j\Ir. Gazabo annoder one an’ 
down he goes again. He’s up an’ cornin’ back again in 
a second like de pokes he was gettin’ never boddered him 
at all, an’ be dis time he’s got me up in de air sure enough. 
I set me teet’ an’ go at him de bes’ I know how. 

“I swing wid hot’ mitts an’ his head hits de floor like 
a hod full o’ bricks, an’ den I t’ink sure it’s all off. Up he 
gets an’ all he’s got t’ show fer his beatin’ is a little bit o’ 
blood, an’ you’d oughter see de pup rubber at him. I 
walk around de guy fer a minute an’ I says t’ meself, ‘If 
you got so’s you can’t lick a little guy like dat you’d better 
t’row up yer job an’ give some guy dat kin protect de 
joint a chance,’ an’ den I come out wid de left an’ hand 
de guy a peach between de lamps an’ knock him up agin 
de bar. ‘Now’s yer chance,’ I says t’ meself, an’ I steady 
meself an’ swing fer his jaw fer furder orders. I land 
wan dat oughter put a Durham bull t’ sleep, an’ I guess 
dat was de time I broke me arm. I hit de guy so hard 
I near broke de bar railin’, but he just bounces back an’ 
never falls down at all. Bot’ o’ me mitts is puffed up 
like a toy balloon be dis time an’ de little guy ain’t feazed 
a bit an’ he’s as full o’ fight as he was off de jump. 

“Well, I rubber at de guy, an’ I don’t know wot t’ t’ink 
o’ him, but I make up me mind dat I’ll stop him if I have 
t’ get de ax an’ chop his head off. I tear back o’ de bar 
an’ grab an old club dat a guy leaves wid me one night 
an’ tells me is a Zulu war club er somet’in’ an’ out I come 
wid dat. I kinder had an idea in me nut dat de little 
guy’d take to de woods w’en he got a peek at de club in 
me mitt, but it never boddered him at all. He comes at 
me de same as ever an’ I get a chance in a minute an’ I 
fetch dat club down on de top o’ his nut like I was killin’ 
a steer out to de stock yards. 

“De little guy falls on his face an’ I t’row de club on de 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


181 


floor, t’inkin’ der ain’t nottin’ more to it an’ wonderin’ if 
I’ve broke his skull, an’ wot d’ you s’pose dat guy done? 
He just rolls over an’ jumps up like nottin’ has happened 
an’ puts up his dooks agin. 

“Well, be dis time I t’ink I’m in a trance er somet’in’, 
an’ I don’t know wot t’ do wid de guy. I don’t want t’ 
t’row up me mitts an’ declare him de winner, fer I know 
I’ll have free er four battles every night in de joint if ifs 
ever tipped off dat I was licked in me own house. 

“Well, w’ile I’m framin’ up wot way t’ go at him next 
de guy starts fer me like a mad bull an’ on account o’ bof 
o’ me mitts bein’ on de bum I grab him an’ t’row him 
down. I get bot’ me mitts on his f roat an’ I holler fer de 
pup t’hold his gams an’ den I says f de guy after I get 
me wind: ‘If you don’t quit I’ll get de ice pick an’ chop 
yer block off, an’ dat ain’t no pipe talk, neider.’ Dat spiel 
never feazed de guy an’ he keeps on tryin’ t’ get up. 

“Den I says f de pup, ‘De best fing you kin do,’ I 
says, ‘is f tear out an’ get a copper an’ t’row dis guy in 
jail. I don’t want t’ call on no coppers f settle me 
troubles, but here’s a guy daf s got me cheated.’ 

“As soon as I crack ‘copper’ de guy weakens an’ he 
says: ‘Say, mister. I’m all right. I’m a bit full o’ de 
booze an’ I don’t mean no harm. I never done nothin’ 
wrong an’ I work fer me livin’. I’m de cast-iron man 
over to de museum.’ 

“Well, I looks at de pup an’ de pup looks at me, Dere 
was a guy in de joint a couple o’ nights afore dat was 
tellin’ us about de cast-iron guy at de museum, dat kin 
break pavin’ blocks wid his head an’ bust chains wid his 
jaws an’ chew up pig iron an’ wan t’ing annoder, I look 
at de guy an’ den I look at me mitts. I’m sore enough f 
murder him, but on de square, I have t’ laugh. I tell de 
guy if he’ll go on about his business dat I’ll leave him up 


182 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


an’ he’s only too stuck t’ get de chance t’ get away wid- 
oiit bein’ t’rowed in jail. ' 

“After de guy has blowed I close de joint an’ it costs 
me a single fer de pup, so’s he’ll keep his trap closed an’ 
not tip it off to de gang, an’ a five-case note fer de doc fer 
fixin’ up me mitts an’'me arm. Wot d’ you t’ink o’ dat? 
Me puttin’ bot’ o’ me mitts on de bum fer de rest o’ me 
life tryin, t’ put out a guy wid an iron nut! Come on an’ 
let’s have annoder^drinkl” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


183 


THE PUP AS A “FOUR-FLUSHER.’ 



BARKEEP was evidently in pretty 
good humor. “Dat pup, he’s de cham- 
pion o’ de world w’en it comes t’ four- 
flushin’,” he remarked as he lit a 
fresh cigar and rested one elbow on the 
bar. “Yes, dat’s on de square. I 
never see anybody yet dat he ain’t got 
beat. He’s a wonder, an’ it ain’t no 
kid.” 

“Four-flushin’, huh?” remarked the 
seedy politician, “well, he’d oughter be 
purty good. He’s been doin’ nottin’ but four-flushin’ all 
his life. Wot’s he been doin’ now, handin’ you de bull 
con again some way er odder?” 

“Not me! He’s got t’ hand me somet’in’ nobody never 
heard of afore an’ it’s got to be stronger den anyt’ing I 
ever had in me nut yet afore I’ll stand fer any more o’ de 
bunk from him. An’ he know's it better’n anybody. He’s 
got as much chance o’ framin’ me up again as a guy dat 
falls in de lake has o’ cornin’ out widout wettin’ his feet. 
No, not on yer life, he ain’t trim none o’ de bull con into 
me. He trim a four-flush into a guy de odder night, 
dough, dat’d ’a done yer heart good to got a peek at. 

“Y’ see, it’s ’long purty late in de evenin’ w’en in comes 
a big burly an’ a little guy wid his hair parted in de middle 
an’ a make-up on like he has just broke out of a clothin’ 
store windy. De two o’ dem goes along an’ has a drink 


184 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


er two an’ I get Joseph be de spiel dey’re lettin’ loose of 
dat de burly has got de little guy on his staff an’ is ribbin’ 
him up fer furder orders. De burly keeps t’rowin’ it into 
de little guy how he’s de champion fighter o’ de world 
w’en it comes to a go off de reel wid no holts barred, an’ 

he’s tellin’ him how 
he’d ’a been de cham- 
pion on de square wid 
de gloves if he hadn’t 
’a butted into a bunch 
o’ hard luck. Well, I 
kinder keep rubberin’ 
at de two o’ dem an’ I 
see de little guy is wan 
o’ dem geezers dat’s 
stuck on fighters an’ 
stuck t’ be wid dem an’ 
willin’ to let loose o’ 
der coin faster’n any- 
body fer de privilege 
o’ spendin’ it wid a guy 
dat’s got a bit of a rep- 
utation fer bein’ able t’ 
go some. Well, de 
burly keeps handin’ it 
to de little guy strong 
’bout how he kin go 
hisself an’ ’bout all de 
fighters dat’s his pals an’ wan t’ing an’ annoder an’ de 
little guy is buyin’ a drink every time de burly says he’s 
t’irsty. De burly gets tellin’ how onct he’s in a joint 
w’ere der’s a mob o’ hoodlums abusin’ an old guy wid 
w’ite w’iskers dat ain’t got a fren’ on eart’ an’ how t’ings 
gets to a stage w’ere de gang is about to go at de old guy 



“DE BIG GUY AN’ DE LITTLE 
GUY.” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


185 


an’ t’row him out in de alley an’ den he jumps in an’ licks 
de hull bunch single-handed an’ den makes every one 
o’ dem get down on der knees an’ beg de old guy’s par- 
don, an’ de little guy stands fer it all an’ buys annoder 
drink. 

“De burly keeps shootin’ dem kind into de little guy 
till he gimme a pain in de neck. W’en I first hear him 
crackin’ ’bout bein’ a fighter I t’ought maybe it was on 
de square, fer he’s a big husky guy an’ he looks like he’d 
oughter be able to go a bit. But he finally gets so gabby 
tellin’ wot he kin do dat I weaken on him. 

“I fergot t’ tell youse guys dat de pup is sleepin’ over 
again’ de wall in a chair all t’roo de argument. He comes 
in de joint wid a swell package aboard early in de ev’nin’ 
an’ he falls asleep in de chair in about a minute. Well, 
de talk de burly’s makin’ about bein’ a fighter finally 
wakes him up. He kinder squirms around fer a little 
w’ile an’ den he sets up in de chair an’ rubbers at de big 
guy fer a minute er two. De burly is tellin’ a hot one 
just den ’bout how he meets two guys goin’ home one 
dark night an’ dey out wid a couple of cannons an’ start 
t’ stick him up, an’ how he comes out wid one mitt an’ 
cops wan guy on de jaw an’ puts him out an’ soaks de 
odder guy a’tween de lamps wid de odder mitt, causin’ 
him t’ blow his holt on his cannon, an’ den how he went 
at de bot’ o’ dem an’ beat de livin’ life out o’ deni an’ left 
dem layin’ in de ditch. 

“W’y, you must be a fighter?’’ says de pup, kinder rub- 
bin’ his eyes out. De burly an’ de little gxiy rounds an’ 
rubbers at de pup, an’ he says: ‘Well, what are you rub- 
berin’ at? Say, Willie, who’s dat big stiff you got wid 
you dat’s kiddin’ you dat he’s a fighter?” 

“I’ll have you t’ understan’,’ says de little guy, ‘dat 


186 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


me .fren’s no stiff, an’ if you insult eider one o’ us he’ll 
t’rash you.’ 

“ ‘He’ll do wot?’ says de pup. ‘W’y, dat big lobster 
couldn’t lick a sick cat. I never see wan o’ dem gabby 
guys dat was any ’count, anyhow. If eider o’ youse guys 
bat yer eye t’ me I’ll get up an’ clean up de joint wid de 
bot o’ yez.’ 

“Well, de burly an’ de little guy stands an’ rubbers at 
de pup wid der mout’ open. 

“ ‘You better look out fer dat guy,’ I hollers to de 
burly; ‘dere’s de toughest guy in de world in a fight. He 
win a couple in here already to-night.’ 

“De burly looks at me an’ I see he’s wishin’ he hadn’t 
’a woke de pup up. 

“De pup jumps up an’ he says, ‘I guess I’ll just take 
a funny punch at you anyhow,’ an’ he swings fer de burly 
an’ misses him about four feet an’ near fell down hisself. 
De burly jumps away over to de door an’ de little guy 
takes to de woods altogedder. 

“You better look out fer dat guy,’ I hollers to de 
burly w’ile de pup is gettin’ hisself square on his pins, ‘he 
broke de las’ guy’s jaw dat he hit an’ I don’t want no 
dealin’s wid him meself.’ 

“Well, de pup sees dat de burly is weakenin’ an’ he 
makes de awfullest four-flush you ever see. He sets his 
teet’ an’ closes up his mitts an’ lets a roar out o’ him like 
a mad bull an’ starts fer de guy like he’d never quit till 
he had him beat t’ deaf. De burly takes one peek at him 
cornin’ an’ turns an’ near breaks de door down gettin’ 
t’roo it. I rubber out an’ him an’ de little guy is tearin’ 
up de car tracks like dey was a couple o’ dips makin’ der 
getaway. All de pup does is to go set in de chair an’ 
starts f go f sleep again. 

“ ‘Well, if you ain’t a pippin,’ I says. ‘Wot would you 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


187 


’a done if dat guy’d a started at you?’ ‘Der was no 
chanct,’ he says, ‘any time dey’re dat gabby you kin 
gamble dey ain’t dere v/’en it comes to a stage w’ere dey 
got t’ deliver de goods,’ an’ den he goes t’ sleep. 

“Oh, he’s de champion, an’ dat ain’t no lie. If I was 
dere wid his four-flushin’ abilities I’d be able to win a lot 
o’ battles round here meself widout goin’ to de trouble o’ 
soakin’ nobody. Let’s have a little drink an’ I’ll charge it 
up to de pup. De first time he goes t’ sleep I’ll take it 
away from him.” 


188 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE PUP BREAKS UP A BICYCLE TRIP. 

BARKEEP came in the place about the 
time he usually showed up to go to 
work the other evening with a percep- 
tible limp in his walk and a couple of 
square inches of skin missing from his 
nose. 

He was chewing the end of a cigar 
and he was evidently in no very good 
humor. He limped around back of the 
bar, followed by the cpiestioning 
glances of the “gang” and, after care- 
fully surveying his countenance in the mirror, remarked : 

“Dat’s too tough a mug t’ go t’ work wid, ain’t it?” 

“Naw, it’s all right,” replied one of the regular mem- 
bers; “wot did you do — fall out o’ bed?” 

“I fell furder an’ faster an’ lit harder den anybody ever 
y’ see in yer life,” returned the barkeep, as he ruefully 
scrutinized several small bruises scattered over his visage, 
“an’ if I don’t land in de mud dey have me over in de 
morgue right now, an’ dat ain’t no kid, neider.” 

“Wot did you do — fall out of a windy?” 

“No, I didn’t fall out o’ no windy, but I done a fall off’n 
me wheel dat’d make wan o’ dem circus guys dat jumps 
over elephants fer a livin’ look like a sellin’-plater. An’ 
lemme tell you somet’in’. Don’t none o’ youse guys lay 
more’ll even moirey dat you’ll ever put yer lamps on de 
pup again.” 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


189 


“De pup?” broke in the seedy politician. “Wot’s de 
matter vvid him — has he took t’ de woods?” 

“Naw, he ain’t took t’ de woods. He couldn’t take to 
now’eres right now, er else dey got me way off wrong. 
He’ll be purty lucky if he kin take t’ de hospital. I don’t 
t’ink it’s much more’n even money dat he ain’t layin’ dead 
out dere.” 

“Out w’ere?” anxiously inquired several of the gang. 

“Out w’ere I done me fall,” answered the barkeep as 
he walked out from behind 
the bar and slowly rubbed his 
left knee. “Come on an’ have 
a drink an’ I’ll tell you how 
de play come up. I t’ink I’ll 
leave de boss work to-night. 

It’d have me daffy tellin’ t’irty 
t’ousand guys dat I didn’t get 
it handed to me in a battle if 
I stuck ’round here. Y’ see, 
dis afternoon I get up early 
an’ I don’t know wot t’ do wid 
meself. I come down to de 
joint an’ der ain’t nobody 
around but de pup an’ de 
seedy politician chewin’ de 
rag ’bout de silver an’ de gold. 

Dem silver an’ gold arguments has got near everybody 
round de ^oint nutty. De politician he’s fer de silver an’ 
de pup he don’t know wot he’s fer. Any time de politi- 
cian is around an’ t’ings is quiet de pup is fer de gold just 
so’s he kin frame up an’ argument, but if der was a guy 
round dat was wid de silver dat had de goods an’ was 
lettin’ loose of it de pup’d be wid him. I t’ink de pup is 
de same as most anybody else. He’s fer easy money an’ 



“DE PUP TAKES T’ DE 
WOODS.” 


190 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


he don’t care much wot way it comes as long as he kin 
buy de beer an’ de beefsteaks wid it 

“Well, I see der ain’t nottin’ round de joint, an’ on 
’count of it’ bein’ a swell day I get de idea in me nut t’ 
go over t’ me fren’s joint an’ get me a bicycle an’ go 
ridin’. I ain’t been on a w’eel since de time I was pinched 
out sout’ fer bein’ a scorcher, 

“I starts off an’ de pup says: ‘W’ere you goin’?’ 1 
tells him an’ he wants t’ join out wid me. 

“ ‘Wot d’ you know ’bout ridin’ a bicycle?’ I says, 

“ ‘Dat’ll be all right,’ he says, ‘you get a w’eel fer me an’ 
it ain’t no two to one dat I ain’t got you beat.’ 

“Well, like a sucker, I joins him out an’ we go 
over to me fren’s joint w’ere dey teach guys t’ ride, an’ I 
get two w’eels. I makes de pup show me dat he’s dere 
afore I rents a w’eel fer him. He gets on an’ goes round 
de floor o’ de joint a couple o’ times purty good, an’ I’m 
try in’ t’ get it t’roo me nut w’ere he got Joseph how t’ 
ride. I gets meself a purty good-lookin’ kind o’ a w’eel 
an’ I gets de pup wan a guy couldn’t break wid a sledge- 
hammer. Y’see, I don’t know how de pup’ll go on de road 
an’ I don’t want t’ stand t’ hand over no coin fer a w’eel 
dat he’d put on de bum. 

‘‘Well, we start out an’ I see I got de pup beat t’ deaf 
w’en it come f ridin’. We go way out nort’ an’ finally we 
was out o’ de town altogedder. Purty soon we get into 
an argument ’bout who is de best rider an’ dat was de 
startin’ o’ de finish. We was w’ere der’s a kind o’ narrow 
piece o’ road an’- it’s down hill for a ways. I says f de 
pup, ‘I’ll bet you de beer at de nex’ joint we come to dat 
I kin give you a start from here f dat second tree an’ beat 
you to dat yaller barn down de road.’ 

“ ‘You’re on,’ says de pup, an’ I’m ticklin’ meself in de 
ribs finkin’ wot a soft one I picked up. 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


191 


“Well, de pup goes down t’ de tree an’ readys up an’ 
w’en I hollers ‘go,’ we hot’ starts. Afore we’re gone 
t’irty foot I see dat it’s a pipe fer me an’ I says t’ meself 
dat I’ll just go out an’ show him how good I kin trim 
him. De pup hears me cornin’ an’ he sees it’s all off wid 
him. Wot d’ you s’pose dat guy done? I’m cornin’ down 
de hill forty mile an hour an’ he slows up an’ waits till 
der ain’t no chanct fer me t’ stop meself an’ den jumps 
off’n his w’eel an’ leaves it fall in front o’ me. 

“Oh, I didn’t do nothin’! Me w’eel hits his an’ you talk 
about dat guy out to de beach doin’ de high dive ! I had 
him cheated. I blow me w’eel an’ I land wid me face first 
amongst a bunch o’ ducks dat was swimmin’ in a mud- 
puddle 'bout t’irty foot away. W’en I finally get de mud 
out o’ me eyes an’ mout’ an’ feel t’ see whedder any o’ me 
wings is missin’ I rubber an’ dere’s de pup tearin’ acrost 
de prairie near a half a mile away. I start after him de 
best way I kin wid me shoes full o’ mud. I gain on him 
a bit, but I’m a trifle shy o’ wind on account o’ de fall I 
done an’ I finally take out me cannon an’ I holler t’ de pup 
t’ stop. He turns an’ sees de gun, but he t’inks I’m kid- 
din’ an’ he keeps on goin’. I’m up purty close t’ him be 
dis time an’ I just leave wan go in de air wid de cannon. 

“De pup jumps four foot in de air an’ near falls down. 
He rubbers an’ I point me gun at him. He trows bot’ 
mitts in de air an’ stops an’ I go an’ grab him. I hold 
him till I get me wind an’ den I start at him. I close up 
bot’ his eyes an’, on de level, I give dat guy a scand’lous 
heatin’. Den I drag him back an’ trow him in de mud- 
puddle w’ere I lit. He crawls out an’ I trow him in again. 
Den I take a peek at de w’eels an’ der ain’t enough left o’ 
mine t’ rap to. I rubber at dem a minute an’ den I walk 
over an’ hand de pup a couple o’ more wallops. 


192 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


“Den I out vvid m€ cannon an’ I says to him; ‘You see 
dat way dere? Well, dat’s de way out o’ town. Now, you 
start tearin’ acrost dat prairie an’ if you bat yer eye around 
I'll shoot wan o’ yer ears off, see?’ De pup, he starts 
acrogt de prairie de best way he kin, fer he’s blind an’ 
lame an’ everyt’ing else. 

“It costs me t’ree bucks fer a guy’s wagon t’ take me 
an’*de w’eels home an’ I’ll have t’ hand de cleaner about 
annoder deuce t’ fix me cl’ose up. I didn’t go back wid 
de w’eels, but I’m lookin’ fer me fren’ from de bicycle 
joint t’ drop in every minute. I’ll tell youse guys, right 
now if I was on a jury tryin’ a guy fer croakin’ de pup I’d 
discharge him, no matter wot way de play came up. 
Der’s wan t’ing dat’s a pipe an’ dat is dat dey’ll have me 
over on de nort’ side fer croakin’ dat guy if he don’t keep 
away from dis joint. Come on an’ have annoder drink.” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


193 


FOOT-BALL PLAYERS AS FIGHTERS. 



GUY dat t’inks dem football players 
ain’t dere good an’ plenty in a mix-up 
on de square is tiutty,” remarked the 
barkeep one evening, as he drew a 
couple of schooners and placed them 
on the bar before the copper on the 
beat and the seedy politician. 

“W’y, cert’nly der dere,” agreed the 
politician, carefully blowing the foam 
from his beer, “wot give you de idea 
dey wasn’t dere?” 

“I dunno,” replied the barkeep, “but I alius had de 
idea in me nut dat dem long-haired guys wid de sweaters 
dat come in de joint hollerin’ like a bunch o’ Comanche 
Indians an’ tellin’ how dis guy breaks his leg an’ dat guy 
loses a lamp doorin’ de game dat just come off was a lot 
o’ kinder daffy guys dat wouldn’t last a minute if it come 
to a show-down w’ere dey had Ulnake a battle wid no 
holts barred wid some everyday husky guy dat was used 
t’ mixin’ it up off de reel an’ was purty handy wid his 
mitts. 

“Yes, dat’s right. I t’ought ’bout all de most o’ dem 
had was der gab, but dere’s a guy in here de night before 
last dat showed me dat I was way off wrong. You re- 
member dat guy dat uster hang round de joint — dat 
Muggins? Well, he don’t do nothin’ but blow in here a 
couple o’ nights ago wid nottin’ but de coin an’ nottin’ 


194 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


t’ do but Spend it. He’s been hop-skotchin’ aroun’ de 
country wid a circus all summer an’ he’s been every- 
w’eres from Kokomo to Oklahoma, t’ hear him tell 
it. Well, he’s in here chewin’ de rag wid a few o’ de gang 
w’en in comes a guy wid a nut dat looks like a head o’ 
cabbage an’ a sweater an’ de reg’lar make-up on dat’d 
make you go bet yer life again a cigarette dat he’s a foot- 
ball player. 

“jMuggins is dere 
wid a few under his 
belt, just enough t’ 
make him a bit gabby 
an’ willin’ t’ butt in 
wid everybody dat 
comes along, Tain’t 
more ’n a minute a- 
fore him an’ Mr. Foot- 
ball Guy is mixed up 
togedder an’ into an 
argument a mile long 
’bout t’ings I never 
heard of afore, an’ I 
don’t t’ink Muggins 
did eider. Finally dey 
get to a stage w’ere 

“DE TWO O’ DEM COMES • i • i . 

RUBBERIN’.” - JMuggins claiiiis dat 

he’d oughter be de 
boss football player o’ de bunch any time dey’d turn him 
lose ’ll a. lot w’ere dey was playin’ a game, on account ’o 
bein’ naturally a purty husky guy an’, accordin’ to his 
own notions, dere wid de ability t’ show purty near any- 
body de fifteen-ball in a go-as-you-please mix-up. De 
football player he’s tellin’ Muggins dat dey’d make him 
look like a yeller dog if dey’d ever get him into wan q’ 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


195 


dem mix-ups w’ere t’irty guys is all tryin’ t’ get der mitts 
on one ball. 

“ ‘Well, you’ll have to show me,’ says Muggins. 
‘How’s dat?’ says Mr. Football Guy. ‘Well,’ says Mug- 
gins, ‘you’re de guy dat’s supposed t’ stop any o’ dem 
players dat gets loose o’ de bunch wid de ball in der 
mitt, ain’t you?’ ‘Yes,’ says de football guy. ‘Well,’ says 
Muggins, ‘you stand over dere an’ I’m supposed t’ be 
cornin’ wid de ball. I’ll bet de drinks fer de bunch you’ll 
not stop me.’ ‘Dat’s a bet,’ says de football guy, and 
he takes off his sweater an’ Muggins takes off his coat 
an’ vest, 

“Muggins starts fer de football guy like he’s in a joint 
w’ere he has t’ battle his way t’roo t’irty guys t’ get out. 
De football guy just grabs him an’ de two o’ dem goes 
t’ de floor wid IMr. Cabbage-head on top. Muggins gets 
up kinder sore an’ wants t’ try it over, 

“He goes at de guy again an’ dis time de guy t’rows 
him down good and hard. De football guy ain’t as husky 
as Muggins at dat, but he knowed how t’ grab him er 
somet’in’, fer he was handlin’ him like he was a doll baby. 

“Muggins gets up an’ I see be de look in his lamp dat 
dere’ll be a battle if he don't get by de football guy dis 
time. I give de football guy de office t’ let him go, but 
he don’t see me, I guess, fer him an’ Muggins goes t’ 
de floor again in a minute an’ him dere wid de strangle 
holt. 

“W’en de football guy t’inks he’s showed Muggins dat 
he’s stopped good an’ plenty he lets loose of him. Mug- 
gins jumps up an’ swings fer de guy’s jaw, an’ dey was in 
a battle on de square in about a second. Just den in 
drops a guy dat looks like he might own a brewery an 
wid him is wan o’ dem bum actors dat t row de hot air 
into a guy ’bout wot dey uster be afore de ten-twenty- 


196 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


t’irty shows was goin’. Just as dey get inside de door 
Muggins an’ de football guy goes t’ de floor in a clinch 
an’ I jump in an’ try t’ split dem out. 

“De actor an’ de odder guy comes rubberin’ t’ see 
wot’s de trouble. Finally I splits dem out fer a minute 
an’ Muggins jumps up wid his eyes half-closed up an’ 
his clo’se near tore off him. He gets a peek at de actor’s 
hair from behind an’ he t’inks he’s de football player, an’ 
he swings on him an’ puts him out. 

“De big brewery guy, dat come in wid de actor, he 
jumps in an’ wants t’ know wot he done it fer. Muggins 
soaks him in de nose an’ he’s four points down afore he 
knows w’ere he’s at. 

“Be dis time I got Mr. Football Guy stalled out o’ de 
joint an’ den I t’ought fer aw’ile Fd have t’ lick Muggins 
t’ make him quit wantin’ t’ lick everybody in de place. 

“But de football guy win de battle as fur as it went, 
fer he didn’t have no marks on him an’ Muggins was 
dere plenty wid his own beatin’s. It took more jollyin’ 
an’ squarin’ an’ hot air t’ fix de brewery guy an ’de actor 
so’s dey’d go way widout no hard feelin’s den ever you 
see in yer life an’ I bflieve I fell fer somet’in’ like four 
rounds o’ drinks afore everyt’ing is all right. 

“I tink I’ll bar dat Muggins. He alius was a dis- 
turber anyhow. Dat’s just my luck. I don’t get rid o’ 
de pup a week afore der’s annoder guy dat’s alius ribbin’ 
up trouble comes round de joint.” 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


197 


THE BARKEEP TELLS OF A HOLD-UP. 



' WAS I tellin’ youse guys ’bout de stick- 
up dat come off in here las’ night?” 
asked the barkeep of the various mem- 
bers of the talent around the stove. 

“Shtick-up? Who shtuck you up?” 
inquired the copper on the beat, who 
had just stepped in out of the cold, as 
the barkeep handed him the police- 
man’s bottle. 

“Somebody about stuck him up fer 
a drink,” remarked Muggins, who had 
been awakened out of a doze by the conversation. 

“Dey was nobody stuck me up at all,” said the bar- 
keep. “I done de stick-up work meself, aldough fer a 
time I t’ought sure it was a case o’ t’ree guys t’ de woods 
wid de damper. 

“It’s along somevv’eres ’bout 12 o’clock an’ der ain’t 
anodder guy in de joint, dead er alive, but me. I’m 
settin’ over agin de wall back o’ de stove wonderin’ wot’s 
de matter dat de ’lection don’t loosen t’ings up a bit an’ 
I finally gets so snaky from de bum business dat I 
goes an’ cops a drink o’ booze an’ den grabs a noos- 
paper t’ pass de time away. 

“De first t’ing I lamp to in de paper is w’ere dey’s a 
mob o’ stick-up guys breakin’ into booze joints around 
town wid a cannon in each mitt an’ stickin’ up ev’ybody 


m 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


in sight, an’ cleanin’ up de damper an’ ev’ybody else an’ 
takin’ t’ de woods wid de coin. I’m readin’ w’ere dey 
t’rnn a couple o’ guys in de ice-box in wan joint afore 
dey blowed an’ near froze dem t’ deat’ afore dey was 
took out. 

“ ‘Dat’s purty rough work/ I says t’ nieself, an’ den I 
t’inks t’ meself wot’d I do if dat mob was t’ break in 
here. I’m just startin, t’ go back o’ de bar an’ plant de 

coin dat’s in de damper 
somew’eres an’ get de can- 
non and put it in me kick 
w’en de door opens an’ in 
comes t’ree guys dat was 
liable t’ make a guy t’ink 
he was stuck up if he’d butt 
into dem in de middle o’ de 
boulevard in broad day- 
light. 

“Wan guy is certainly as 
rough a lookin’ mark as a 
guy ever see in his life. He 
looks like he’d chop yer leg 
off if he t’ought you had a 
two-bit piece in yer kick an’ 
•‘CERT’NLY A ROUGH LOOKIN’ he couldii’t get it no odder 
” way. Wan odder guy kind- 

er creeps in an’ rubbers round de joint like he’s scared 
of his shadder an’ de last guy o’ de bunch, he just drills 
over an’ backs up t’ de stove an’ rubbers at de fixtures. 

‘Well, w’en I gets me lamps on dat mob I says t’ 
meself, ‘It’s all off now to a certainty,’ an’ I starts figurin’ 
up how much coin I has in me kick an’ how much dey 
is in de damper. De big rough-lookin’ guy drills up t’ 
de bar wid de scared-lookin’ guy tailin’ him up an’ he 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


199 


gives me de office wid his nut dat he wants somet’in’. 
Neider wan o’ de t’ree o’ dem cracks a word at all, but 
dey just lines up t’de bar an’ I’m waitin' fer dem t’ come 
out wid der cannons w’en de big guy points at de beer- 
faucet an’ I draws dem t’ree out o’ de keg. 

“Wile I’m puttin’ dem up on de bar an’ wonderin’ 
wot’s de matter wid de mob dat dey don’t say nottin’, I 
get a peek at de butt end of wan dat looks t’ me like a 
forty-four stickin’ out o’ de big guy’s outside kick. 

‘“Der ain’t nottin’ to it, now,’ I says t’ meself, ‘dem 
guys is just takin’ t’ings easy an’ rubberin’ t’ see wot de 
joint looks like afore dey go t’ work. Finally de little 
guy he drinks his beer an’ goes back t’ de stove an’ de 
odder two stands at de bar coppin’ deirs an’ it looked t’ 
me like dey was lampin’ to de damper awful strong. 

“Well, waitin’ fer dem guys t’ start in near has me 
nutty afore long, an’ I cop a drink o’ booze meself. 

“Den I says t’ meself, ‘I wonder couldn't I beat dem 
guys to a flash wid a cannon an’ take a chance dat dey’ll 
back out o’ de joint widout no trouble?’ 

“Wile I’m t’inkin’ ’bout dis de big guy goes down in 
his jeans an’ digs up fifteen fer de t’ree beers an’ den 
he puts wan mitt on de butt end o’ dat cannon an' I 
t’inks t’ meself here's w’ere dey do business. 

“But he don’t come out wid no cannon at all but just 
stands over be de stove an’ rubbers round de joint an’, 
on de square. I’m gettin’ daffy sure be dis time. Finally 
de big guy turns his back an’ drills down toward de back 
o’ de joint. 

“ ‘Now’s yer chance,’ I says t’ meself, an’ I goes in 
wan o’ de drawers an’ comes out wid dat gatlin’ gun de 
boss fetches back wid him de las’ time he was down to 
Te.xas. I see dat I'm dcre wid me load in me gun an’ den 
I t’row it at de big guy an’ I backs into de corner be de 


200 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


ice-box an’ I says: ‘If wan o’ youse guys bats yer eye 
wrong t’ me I’ll blow de top o’ yer nut off. Just t’r dw 
yer mitts in de air an’ drill out de way you come in widout 
no dubbin’ wid de cards er youse guys’ll t’ink in a min- 
ute dat you’ve fell into de battle o’ Bull’s Run.’ 

“Dere ain’t none o’ de mob lookin’ at me w’en I make 
me spiel an’ dey don’t pay no more ’tention t’ me den if 
I was a wooden Indian. 

“Finally de little guy be de stove turns an’ gets a flash 
o’ me cannon. He don’t say 'a word, but he near tips 
de guy over dat was standin’ wid him gettin’ t’de door. 

‘‘De scared-lookin’ guy he gets a peek at de gun an’ he 
falls down t’ree times, makin’ his get away an’ breaks 
de leg off’n wan o’ de chairs on de way out. 

“De big guy he don’t even round den, an’ I don’t know 
wot t’ make of it. .Finally I says, ‘You better take t’ de 
woods wid de rest o’ yer mob er I’ll cut loose at you wid- 
out givin’ you no more chance.’ 

“Dat don’t bodder him at all. I finally walks out o’ de 
corner an’ I goes up t’ de guy wid me cannon in front 
o’ me an’ I says, grabbin’ him be de shoulder: ‘You 
just trow yer mitts in de air ati’ hand me dat cannon you 
got er I’ll blow a hole t’roo you.’ 

“De guy turns w’en I grabs him an’ gets a peek at de 
gun in me mitt an’ he falls on his knees wid his teet’ chat- 
terin’ like it was 40 below zero. ‘Gimme dat gun,’ I says, 
but he don’t pay no ’tention t’ me. 

“ ‘I’ll just go get it meself,’ says I, an’ I reaches down 
in his kick an’ comes out wid an old butt end of a cannon 
stuck into a big piece o’ glass wid de picter o’ wan o’ dem 
wild west shows dat was here doorin’ de World’s Fair 
painted on de inside of it. 

“I near drop me cannon w’en I see wot it is, an’ den I 
picks de guy up an’ fetches him over t’ de bar an’ draws 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


201 


him a glass o’ beer. Den I tell him how it is, but he puts 
his mitt on his mout’ and tells me wid signs dat he wants 
t’ write. I hands him a pencil an’ a piece o’ paper an’ he 
writes on it: ‘Lemme go; I ain’t got nothin’. I’m deaf 
an’ dumb an’ I got a family t’ keep. 

“Wot d’ye t’ink o’ dat? Me havin’ near ten years 
scared off me life t’inkin’ I’m gettin’ stuck up be a mob 
o’ deaf an’ dumb guys! I ask de guy in de writin’ wot de 
fake is he has in his kick an’ he tells me it’s wan o’ dem 
t’ings dem lawyers an’ odder guys has t’ put on a bunch 
o’ loose papers t’ keep de wind from blowin’ dem away. 

“Just den back comes de odder two dummies wid de 
copper on de nex’ beat an’ I fell fer ’bout t’ree rounds 
squarin’ everyt’ing up. I tell yer, der’s nothin’ to it. I 
got t’ get out o’ dis business er dey’ll have me*in Kanka- 
kee.” 


202 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE BARKEEP TELLS OF ELECTION 
NIGHT. 

DAT? W’ere was I ’lection night?” 
asked the barkeep, in response to an 
inquiry from the copper on the beat. 
“W’ere d’ you s’pose I was? Right 
here in de joint, o’ course, an’ at dat 
I’d about as soon been out in de bug- 
house. I never seen so many daffy 
guys in me life. Will you have a lit- 
tle drink?” 

“Shure,” replied the guardian of the 
peace. “Phwat d’yez t’ink av th’ ’lec- 

“T’ink about it? I wish’t dere’d be wan every day, even 
if de coppers did slough us till 4 in de afternoon. I cer- 
t’nly got de goods fer a’wile Toosday, but it’d put a guy 
on his way t’ Kankakee seein’ dat dey didn’t run away 
wid de joint if dat bunch o’ nutty guys dat was around 
de night o’ de ’lection was t’ break loose very often. 

“Dem guys make a hit wid me, dem guys dat comes 
out o’ deir holes on ’lection night wid a tin horn an’ a $2 
note an’ de idea in der nuts dat cause wan guy has 
trimmed annoder wan at de polls dat entitles dem t’ cut 
loose an’ make a rough house out o’ every joint dey break 
into. Dey t’ink der entitled t’ git away wid breaks dat’d 
put dem in de booby-hatch afore dey had went free min- 
utes any odder night, an’ dey go long an’ let loose o’ more 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 202 

noise, leavin’ go o’ dat $2 note den dey’d be entitled to if 
dey was spendin’ a century w’en t’ings is goin’ ’long de 
same as dey always is. 

“Dem college guys was de ones dat had me bug-house. 
Dey kept coinin’ in de joint paradin’ in a line wid every 
wan o’ dem dere wid a tin horn two foot long an’ a set 
o’ pipes dat’d make any o’ dem auctioneers ever I see 
t ink he never did know how t’ leave loose of a good 

healt’y roar, an’ a few 
more fakes in deir mitt 
in case deir wind give 
out an’ deir pipes froze 
up dey’d still be dere 
wid plenty o’de racket. 

‘‘Well, dem college 
guy’s ’d line up agin 
de bar an’ every wan 
cut loose at you de 
best he knowed how 
wid his horn, an’ den 
dey’d all get into a 
bunch togedder and 
leave go of a roar like 
dey was a bunch o’ 
Comanche Indians do- 
in’ a war dance, an’ a guy never could find out wot dey 
wanted t’ drink. I couldn’t make no head er tail er get 
it troo me nut no way w’ich guy dat was ’lected dat dey 
was hollerin’ fer an’ all I kin ketch is de finish. ‘’Rah! 
’Rah ! ’Rah !’ like dat. A guy dat was in here finally tells 
me dat deir hollerin’ fer de football players dat b’longed 
t’ de college w’ere dey was at, an’ he says dat it’s all even 
wid dem who win de ’lection, I s’pose dey’d be hollerin’ 



“HE TURNS WID HIS HORN AN’ 
LEAVES HER GO.” 


204 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


fer de football guys just de same if de prohibition guy had 
’a’ win out. 

“But dere was wan t’ing come off in here doorin’ de 
ev’nin’ dat I never had oughter done. I hit wan little 
guy dat weighed four pounds lighter den a bladder a bat 
side o’ de head dat like to loosen his block off’n his shoul- 
ders altogedder. Not dat it wasn’t cornin’ t’ him at dat, 
but he’s such a little guy dat I’m sore at meself de minute 
I done it. If he’d been a big guy de chances are a split- 
out’d ’a’ been all dat’d stopped a murder. 

“Y’see it’s long in de mornin’ some time an’ de joint 
is full o’ crazy politicians an’ guys dat t’ink dey ain’t in 
line widout dey get deir package aboard every ’lection 
night. Well, free guys dafs settin’ over to a table ag’in 
de wall gives me de office dat dey want free beers, an’ on 
’count o’ de hobo, - who’s hustlin’ beer fer me dat night 
wid a white apron daf d fit a freight car tied round him, 
bein’ busy in some odder part o’ de joint I just draw de 
free beers an’ start acrost de joint wid dem meself. Like 
a sucker, I has f get swell an’ put dem on a tray. If I’d 
’a’ kep’ dem in me mitt I’d ’a’ been all right. 

“W’en I start out from behind de bar wid de free beers, 
de side door opens an’ in comes a bunch o’ dem long- 
haired college guys I was tellin’ you ’bout. Wan little 
guy is dere wid a horn dat’d make a section o’ sewer pipe 
look like a pea-shooter an’ w’en de mob passes me dis lit- 
tle guy he turns wid his horn an’ leaves her go wid de 
head end of it ’bout t’ree inches away from me ear. It 
was ’bout de same as a guy turnin’ loose wan o’ dem 
whistles on dem lake boats along side of a guy’s nut, and 
I must ’a jumped free foot in de air. I kep’ me mitts on 
de tray, but de beer an’ de glasses was all over de joint. 
Well, afore I know wot I’m doin’ I slam dat little guy 
long side de ear wid de bottom o’ de tray an’ he lands 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


205 


head-first in ’mongst a bunch o’ guys dat’s drinkin’ at de 
bar. I’m sore de minute after I done it an’ I t’ink sure 
I’ll have to go de route den an’ make a battle wid his mob, 
but all dey done was t’ pick de little guy up, give him a 
couple o’ hot-backs, an’ tell me I give him wot was natur- 
ally cornin’ t’ him on ’count o’ him bein’ disorderly all 
night. Dem college guys ain’t no bad fellers at dat, only 
dey all got dat one idea in deir nut dat deir entitled t’ 
make all de noise is bein’ made anyw’eres dey go an’ dat 
any time dey don’t deir blowin’ part o’ der reputation. 

“Yes, dat’s right, dem ’lection nights is all right fer de 
cash register, but der purty tough fer de guy dat’s dealin’ 
de booze.” 


206 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE BARKEEP WINS A BICYCLE. 

Y’HEAR ’bout me winnin’ de bicycle 
over to de raffle?” asked the barkeep 
of Muggins and the copper on the 
beat. 

“Wot's dat? W’ere’s it at?” 

“Down in de cellar. Youse guys 
must t’ink I’m kiddin’. Wait a min- 
ute an’ I’ll drag it up an’ let you get 
a peek at it,” and the barkeep locked 
the register, put the key in his pocket 
and hastened down the basement 
stairs. He reappeared in a moment carrying a bicycle, 
which he carefully stood against the wall. 

“I guess dat’s a bad one, huh? ’Tain’t hardly fit for a 
guy t’ git aboard of, is it? I s’pose fifteen er twenty case 
of anybody’s coin’d buy a ringer fer it — nit! Lamp to it 
good an’ tell me wot y’ t’ink about it on de square.” 

“As fur as Oi kin see it’s th’ same as anny other wan,” 
said the copper on the beat, as he critically surveyed the 
wheel. “All them bi-cycles looks th’ same t’ me, anny- 
how.” 

“Cert’nly,” replied the barkeep sarcastically, “you 
ain’t no judge o’ nottin’, nohow, barrin’, mebbe, de corn 
beef and cabbage. 

“De most o’ youse turks dat’s around wid a star an’ 
club oughter be dere by rights wid d- pick an’ a shovel. 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


207 


Aw, dat’s all right, old pal. Have a little drinK. Don’t 
pay no ’tention t’ me. I’m only kiddin’,” and the barkeep 
gave the copper a couple o’ “hot-backs,” drew a schoon- 
erful out of the keg for Muggins and reached for the po- 
liceman’s bottle. 

“Well, on ’count o’ youse guys not knowin’ nottin’ 
about a w’eel,” resumed the barkeep, “I’ll have to put you 
Joseph to w’ere dis wan gets off at. Dat dere w’eel is as 

swell a one as ever 
come down de boule- 
vard, an’ dat ain’t no 
stem-story, nor no bull 
con neider. A guy 
couldn’t drag dat one 
out of a joint w’ere dey 
sell dem widout slip- 
pin’ de gazabo dat 
owned de joint a cen- 
tury note. Youse guys 
may t’ink I’m handin’ 
you a few out o’ de 
dream book, but if you 
t’ink it ain’t on de 
square you kin win a 
little silver from de 
champion booze-dealer 
o’ de neighborhood.” 
“Well,” remarked Muggins, “on account o’ not know- 
in’ nothin’ diff’rent we’ll take yer word fer it ’bout de bi- 
cycle, but you ain’t told us nottin’ ’bout de raffle yet. 
W’ere was it at?” 

“Out on de wes’ side,” replied the barkeep. “Out to a 
joint w’ere I never fell into afore in me life. Y’see, ’bout 
^ week ago der’s a little guy gomes in de joint dat I kinder 



“I DRILL OUT O' DE JOINT 
WID IT.” 


208 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


half knowed from t’ree er four years ago. He goes along 
leavin’ go of his silver purty fast an’ we hot’ has a package 
aboard afore de ev’nin’ is over. 

“He don’t gimme no chance t’ buy a drink at all an’ he 
finally tells me dat he’s rafflin’ off a bicycle in a couple o’ 
nights over on de west side. He’s dere wid a bunch o’ 
dem ducats w’ere a guy takes a chance an’ wotever num- 
ber he drags out he settles dat much silver. Well, he 
wants me t’ go again it an’ he swears be all dat’s on de 
level dat de w’eel he’s got is a swell an’ de raffle’s on de 
square. I’m uster goin’ after de most o’ dem guys dat 
starts t’ hand me de bull t’ buy a raffle ticket wid de seltzer 
bottle, but dis guy has went along wid his change so bully 
dat der ain’t no chance fer me t’ git away an’ I drag wan 
out an’ it ain’t nottin’ only number six. Dat kinder makes 
me ’shamed an’ I go in after annoder an’ come out wid 
de hundred an’ t’irty-eight. I have a touch o’ de scrab- 
bled heart w’en I lamp to de number, but I settle an’ cop 
de ducats, t’inkin’ dat all der is to it is dat I’m a single ’n 
a half in de air. 

“Well, las’ night I take a lay-off on ’count o’ wantin’ 
t’ drop over an’ see a guy dat lives over on de west side 
an’ don’t be home no time only ev’nin’s. On me way over 
I happen t’ t’ink dat dat was de night de raffle was t’ come 
off an’ de joint w’ere dey was havin’ it ain’t fur from dis 
guy’s house w’ere I’m goin’. 

“Well, I drops into de joint an’ dey was just startin’ t’ 
shake it off. I grab de box an’ t’row t’irty-wan into de 
bowl fer de six number. 

“Dat wouldn’t win nobody fiottin’ now’eres an’ I stick 
around an’ leave go of a half a case er so w’ile I’m waitin' 
fer dem t’ git to de hundred an t’irty-eight number. 

“De nex’ time I grab de box I don’t do nottin’ only toss 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


209 


out forty-eight fer meself an’ dat puts me two lengt’s in 
de lead of de high guy an’ only twelve numbers t’ go, 
“Wan guy want’s t’ hand me t’irty bucks fer me shake, 
but I stand pat an’ finally drill out o’ de joint wid de w’eel, 
aldough I b’lieve at dat dey might ’a’ tried t’ job me if it 
wasn’t me fren’ was runnin’ de raffle. 

“Well, I ride her over t’ dis guy’s house w’ere I’m goin.’ 
an’ w’en I come t’ blow him an’ all his folks is in de windy 
rubberin’ at me start, on ’count o’ wan little guy dat was^ 
in de bunch dat knowed me from downtown tryin’ to kid 
me dat I can’t ride. He’s wan o’ dem guys dat’s ’a scared 
t’ give away a pleasant smile an’ don’t t’ink no more of a 
lo-cent piece den he does of his right eye. All he’ll leave 
go his silver fer is wan o’ dem flowers dat looks like a 
head o’ cabbage an’ he’s dere wid one o’ dem any time 
de’re around, • 

“Well, I start off all right an’ I ride her up an’ down 
a few times t’ show dem I’m dere an’ den I finally take 
me mitt offen de handle-bar t’ bid dem good-by. Dat’s 
de biggest sucker play ever I made in me life — dat takin’ 
me mitt offen de handle. Me w’eel gets away from me 
an’ de first t’ing I know I’m landed up agin a hydrant an’ 
me w’eel is in de ditch. Y’could hear dem dat was in de 
windy holler t’ree blocks an’ de little guy he was roarin’ 
worse’n anybody. I wouldn’t ’a’ done dat fall fer de nicest 
ten-case note ever you see an’ I get sore an’ grab me 
w’eel an’ see she ain’t broke now’eres an’ jump on her an’ 
tear fer down-town. If dat little guy drops in dis joint 
it’ll be me wid de seltzer bottle an’ him t’ de woods. Well, 
I’m goin’ t’ plant me w’eel now fer de winter an’ you kin 
gamble dat nex’ summer I won’t be slippin’ dat guy over 
on de avenoo no silver every day w’en I want t’ go ridin. 
Muggins, don’t you ferget w’ich side o’ de bar you b’long 
on w’ile Pm puttin’ me w’eel in de cellar.” 


210 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


THE END OF “THE JOINT.” 

A^OT d’you t’ink o’ dat? Dere’s de 
best I ever got in me life! Say, tell 
me somet’in’. Wot time did de joint 
ketch fire?” asked the barkeep on 
this particularly chilly fall morning as 
he and the seedy politician and the 
hobo and the copper on the beat stood 
at the edge of the sidewalk with their 
hands thrust deep into their pockets 
and their gaze directed sadly at the 
demolished plate glass w'indows and 
a scene of wreck and ruin within the “joint.” 

“She musht 'a ketched along about foor o’clock,” re- 
plied the copper on the beat to the barkeep’s question, 
“Oi was up in th’ nixt block phin Oi seen th’ shmoke an’ 
sint in th’ alarum. Dthin Oi run down an’ seen it w^as 
th’ joint.” 

“Well, if dcre ain’t de best I ever got in me life I” repeated 
the barkeep as he approached the front of the place and 
peeked in through a broken wdndow. “De joint cert’nly 
is on de bum now, ain’t she? ’Bout wan o’clock dis morn- 
in’ I’m settin’ in dere back o’ de bar wid a sw'ell rope in 
me face an’ tinkin’ ’bout how I’m all fixed up fer de winter 
wid a job fer meself an’ ev’yting an’ framin’ up how I’m 
goin’ t’ start right off an’ get me a front dat’ll make some 
o’ dem swell beer-jerkers look like lobsters, an’ here dey 



THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


211 


drag me out o’ bed at seven o'clock in de mornin’ an’ 
show me dis fer a finish, Dat’s de best I ever got in me 
life!” 

“Wot time did you close her up?” ventured the seedy 
politician. 

“Dere’s annoder t’ing dat shows wot kind o’ luck a 
guy’s playin’ in,” replied the barkeep, as he searched his 
clothes for a cigar, “I been stickin’ all night every night 
dis week an’ takin’ a chance dat a live one ’ll drop in an’ 
las’ night business is so 
much on de bum ’long 
’bout two o’clock dat I 
get sore and slough her 
up an’ go on home. An’ 
o’ course dat’s de night de 
fire ’d have t’ break out. 

Say,” said the barkeep 
suddenly, turning to the 
copper on the beat, “you 
didn’t get a peek at no- 
body makin’ a get away 
’round here after de joint 
ketched fire, did you?” 

“No, Oi did not,” re- 
sponded the guardian of 
the peace. 

“Why?” asked the hobo and the seedy politician. 

“Oh, nuttin’,” said the barkeep, “only I kinder had an 
idea in me nut dat it might ’a been de pup come back an’ 
set fire t’ de joint t’ git square fer de beatin’ I give him 
de time he trim me offen me w’eel. But if it was him I’ll 
be put Joseph to it. He’s purty gabby an’ it’s a pipe he’ll 
tip himself off afore long.” 

“Wot d’ you s’pose de boss '11 do — quit de booze busi- 



“WE’LL SWING OVER T’ 
DUTCHMAN’S.” 


DE 


212 


THE BARKEEP STORIES. 


ness?” asked the seedy politician, with something that 
sounded like a sigh. 

“Not on yer life,” replied the barkeep, “he’s dere wid 
de goods an’ he’d be nutty if he didn’t have a joint goin’ 
w’ere he was dealin’ out de booze. We’ll be doin’ busi- 
ness again afore de winter’s over.” 

“Well,” concluded the barkeep, as he cast one lingering 
gaze at the dilapidated front of the place, “der ain’t nottin’ 
fer us t’ do now, I guess, but swing over t’ de Dutch- 
man’s an’ get a drink. Come on.” 





Have YOU 

...A COPY OF... 

Pl/IINE’S H/INDT riflNU/IL 


Of Useful Information and Atlas 
of the World 


A COMPENDIUM OF- 




■tk 


, , Things Worth Knowing 
- Things Hard to Remember 

Things You Have Porgotten 





Are You a Housekeeper? 

Are You a Merchant? 

Are You an Old Soldier? 

Haoe You a Family? 

Haoe You a Partner? 

Haoe You any Ambition to be Posted ? 

What do You Knoto About Venezuela? 
What do You Knoto About The Transcaal?' 
What do You Knoto, About Etiquette? 

Do You Knoto a Good Thing tohen You see it? 

THE ABOVE ARE A FEW OF THE 1001 QUESTIONS ANSWERED 
AND IF ANY ONE 

STRIKES YOU 


YOU CAN BE YOUR OWN INFORMANT 

IN A TWINKLING 

This is a book of over 500 pages that contains more solid, practi- 
cal, useful and interesting information than any book ever before 
published. The wonder of the nineteenth century is how we can sell 
it at so low a price. It is unique and has no competitors. It is pub- 
lished in three styles of binding, at the prices set opposite them. 

♦♦♦♦ 

LIMP CLOTH, - 26 CENTS 

STIFF “ - - 60 " 

FULL LEATHER, LIBRARY, $1.00 


E. A. Weeks & Company, Publishers 


521-531 WABASH AVENUE, CHICAGO 



Conklin's Vest = Pocket By Prof. GEO. W. CONKLIN 

1 i /~* J i • OF HAMILTON UNIVERSITY • 

A POrfimAriT Author of Conklm’s Handy Manual 

^UlllCII I OCIIICI ••• of Useful Information, etc. 

. . . This is a book that contains a million proved facts. It is de- 
signed for the service of those who may wish to make statements in 
reference to any of the thousand and one questions that come up in 
everyday life, and immediately prove them if necessary, by refer- 
ence to this handy volume. It can be carried conveniently in the 
vest pocket. It settles argmnents instantly. 

Limp Cloth, 25 cts.; Full Leather Gilt, 50 cts. 



Weeks’ Vest=Pocket Writine contains. i6,ooosyno- 

nPQt RnnL' Antonyms, 

ucaiv DUUK 60,000 Words Difficult 

to Spell. How to Use Capital Letters. Rules of Grammar. Rules 
of Construction. How to Punctuate Correctly. Rules of Style, 
Spelling and Composition. Postal Laws and Information. How 
to Avoid Common Errors. Various Forms of Letters. A Dictionary 
of Familiar Quotations. How to avoid slips of the Tongue and Pen. 
Etc., etc., etc. 

Limp Cloth, 25 Cents; Flexible Leather, 50 Cents. 



Weeks’ Vest= Pocket Webster’s Pronouncing 
Dictionary and Complete Manual of 
: — " z= . . . PARLIAMENTARY PRACTICE 

. . . Contains also French, Latin, Italian and Spanish Words and 
Phrases; Rules for Spelling; Interest Laws and Statutes of Limi- 
tation; Rules for Punctuation, Forms, etc., etc., etc. 

Full Leather, Gilt. Indexed. 25 Cents. 




-i i 


'.■Li J' 

i,.^(riVestPocKet 1 
I ), German fn^UsI) 
jilngfisH Germdn j 
r'i-'^DicIisnary 




Weeks’ German and English and English 
German Vest=Pocket Dictionary... 

Limp Cloth. Indexed. 25 Cents. Full Leather. Gilt. Indexed. 50 Cents. 

Weeks’ French and English and English 
French Vest= Pocket Dictionary . . . 

Limp Cloth. Indexed. 25 Cents. Full Leather, Gilt. Indexed. 50 Cents. 


^ . Rfl — 5 .7 

E. A. Weeks & Company, Publishers 


521-531 WABASH AVENUE, CHICAGO 








